Once and for all, have done with it,
all the silly bunk
of upper-class superiority; that superior
stuff is just holy skunk.
Just you walk around them
and look at the fat-arsed lot
and tell me how they can put it across,
this superior rot!
All these gracious ladies,
graciously bowing down
from their pedestals! Holy Moses,
they’ve done you brown!
And all the sacred gentry,
so responsible and good,
feeling so kind towards you
and suckin’ your blood!
My! the bloomin’ pompoms!
Even as trimmings they’re stale.
Still, if you don’t want to bother,
I don’t care myself a whale.