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I'm not wild about Harry.
Since he has lost the plot,
Whinging and moaning
And gossiping a lot.

He thinks he is hard done by
And everyone is unfair
To this spoilt prince
With the flaming red hair

His hair is not the only thing that flames.
He has a bad temper too,
He makes trouble and complains
Because he has nothing else to do

He thinks he is special,
And entitled in every way
Everyone should bow down to him
And agree with what he says.

Perhaps we would listen,
If what he says is true
But what has become his truth
Become lies to me and you

He was very privileged.
A Prince among men
You have goofed it, Harry
You will have to think again.

Copyright © Shirley Hawkins