How useless is our King’s own voice;
He loves Mrs Simpson, she’s his choice.
But he must be criticised by Archbishop Lang
By Mr Baldwin and all his gang.
It must be terrible to be a king,
To let the world know everything.
It would have been better by far, not to have loved at all,
Than build up castles, which no doubt will fall.
The crisis now, seems rarely over,
Mrs Simpsons in France, she crossed from Dover.
With Rogers her friends, she now is resting
Her love for the king, the world is testing.
To be a king with lots of money,
Is certainly, not to him, all honey.
He no doubt wishes he was only a man,
Then his private affairs the world could not ban.
The latest sensation the king has created
Is the news that the throne he has now abdicated.
In favour of his brother, the Duke of York.
Over the whole wide world it is now the talk.
In exile now, he has sailed from our shores.
The step he has taken he no doubt deplores.
But as true citizens all, with one accord we must sing
Here’s health to His Majesty, and God Save the King.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment