The Queen Has a Navy that Floats in Her Gravy

The Queen has a navy That floats in her gravy, It’s sharp and its clear, But it’s sure tough to steer, For the rudders get stuck In that thick, grayish muck, And the lads in the stern Have a penchant to yearn For the bright shining waters All popping with otters, Yet they smile as they sail past Her Majesty’s repast, And wink as they think That they’d better not sink, For if sailors go down In the gravy, they’ll drown, And you can’t hear them yelp Through the lard for some help, And therefore it’s wise On the ship to keep eyes, And they sail towards a biscuit And think that they’ll risk it, ‘Midst butters and jams, And kippers and clams, On a crumbly crag Raise Her Majesty’s flag, And with hearts beating proud Face the smiling crowd, For a deed large or small, It is better than all, If it’s done with conviction, Not merely good diction, And protecting the table, Or more, if you’re able, Brings honor unseen To country and Queen.