My irritating provocative Chicago cousin Arthur never misses a chance to point out just how backward and hidebound we are here in Britain. His comment is elsewhere in the blog and I reply in all honesty as follows. Over the next few days Arthur, all the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men, and women, will deposit on the streets of London the biggest load of bullshit seen since the glory days of Rome and the 'bread and circuses' the clever Romans provided for their own gullible mob. I find it scary that so many people still need someone to crawl to. Let's vote to put an end to this costly corrupt Ruritanian farce, oops, sorry we can't vote for that; can we?
"One" will now sing for you. Ah one, two ah one two three four!!! To a popular tune called I believe "marching through Georgia"
"Hurrah, hurrah, my diamond jubilee, hurrah; hurrah the bevvy is for free.
Guess whose gonnay pay for it I'll tell it's no me, 3 cheers for my diamond jubilee.
Ye'll see my husband Phil. if we can get him oot the pub.
Drinking wae his cronies in the Greek ex seaman's club.
Sinking pints of ouzo and shootin aff his gub.
Nae help wae my diamond jubilee.
Then my boay oor Charlie, he's called the Prince of Wales
He loves tae go oot sailing in stormy seas an gales.
An when he cocks his lugs up we don't need any sails
nae help wae ma diamond jubilee.
This lovely provocative little ditty ( only a few verses shown) comes from the pen of one of Renfrewshire's finest wordsmiths, folk/ blues/ragtime musician, singer and writer of many more comedy songs and stories. I refer to my old and dear friend Peter Ross , a perceptive and hilarious commentator on current affairs, politics and off the wall and sometimes off the planet thinking. Look him up and be prepared to laugh and think!