My doors are closed. Nice and tightly.

My windows are open. Onto the balcony.

Where I will wave. Under roaring jets.

At gullible people. In fancy dress.

They wave their flags. I force a smile.

Then dream of Epsom. The last half mile.

I think of my Corgis. Fergus and Muick.

Such little legs. They move so quick.

See my boys in jackets. Heavily adorned.

With many medals. They’ve never earned.

The working royals. Stand to be inspected.

One will hide. One will become infected.

Let the crowd eat burgers. Enjoy the show.

Four days off. Then away you go.

Enjoy the break. Im sure you shall.

Then fuck off home. Back up the Mall.