The Barsted King of England
Oh, the minstrels sing of an English King of many long years ago
Who ruled his land with an iron hand though his morals were weak and low.
His only outer garment was a dirty undershirt
That managed to hide the royal pride but never hid the dirt.
He was wild and woolly and full of fleas
And he had his women by twos and threes;
God bless the Barsted king of England.
Oh, the Queen of Spain was an amorous Jane,
A lascivious wench was she;
Who loved to play in a royal way
With the King across the sea.
She often sent a message by royal messenger
To ask the King to come and spend a night or two with her. (Cho.)
Now, the King he had a rival bold whose name was Philip of France,
Who swore he'd stop this carrying on - by the seat of his royal pants.
So off he sent straightway to Spain to steal the Queen away;
To foil the King with a royal ring, and all on a summer's day. (Cho.)
When the news of this foul deed was heard within the royal halls,
The King he swore by the shirt he wore, he'd have his rival's neck.
So he sent for the Duke of Zippity-Zap, who had a dose of the clippety-clap,
To pass it on to Philip of France; and all on a summer's day. (Cho.)
Well, the Queen grew very wary when she next saw Philip of France.
She decided that the Frenchman had gone and lost his chance.
So then she straightway called our King and offered him her hand,
And the sound of ringing wedding bells was heard throughout the land. (Cho.)
They had a royal wedding - all his subjects wished him well.
And the dancers danced without their pants, and so did the King as well.
His only outer garment was the dirty yellow shirt
With which he tried to hide his hide, but couldn't hide the dirt. (Cho.)