When Monarchy Was Fun by Craig Kurtz

When monarchy was fun, old boy,
we lived above the hoi polloi;
a gent would ride a coach-and-six
and never did the classes mix.

Our boots were polished by servants,
a better age I’ve not seen since;
the menials did all the chores
and valets dressed our fat contours.

We danced at balls, flirting in masques,
I can’t think of much harder tasks;
unless the fox hunts that we had —
those were the best of times, b’gad.

The peasantry all knew their place —
‘guv’nor, you have a lucky face’;
the merchant class removed their hats
and congeed to aristocrats.

Let’s raise a glass to our sovereign,
and women, wine and sleeping in;
we lived to dine and dice and fence
plus droit du seigneur, bless our tenants.

Back then, we had the best of laws —
the rich had them, the poor drew straws;
nobody talked of getting votes
lest ye got shot by our redcoats.

The average chuff was born to work —
just look it up in Edmund Burke;
oh wait, I err, the serfs can’t read
so Thomas Paine be damned indeed.

Now, proper taste is in collapse —
those levelers are sure rough chaps;
I miss the days when monarchy
was fun and, ‘twas said, poverty.


©2019 Craig Kurtz

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