Funeral marches horses silent crowds
The one day that our mourning is allowed
The lonely long bereaved find comfort here.
Releasing withheld tears they are sincere.
The gods of war the monarch show their teeth
While we struggling mourners mind our grief
Dukes and earls and princes eye the crowd
Thinking of the sinking of the pound
Houses with extensions will feel cold
What will this do in the polls?
Voter’s won’t like losing their hot air,
The emperor has no clothes on he is bare
God save the King he’s waited long enough
The demons in the Belfry almost laugh