london london umpteenth time
the folks still running
no reason rhyme

those that were given
they take as their own
the why and the what and the how
the rose and the throne
how little they know
how much they presume
they fight for the lead
what they need is a broom
authority no - they shout
in their pride
o.k. my friend, no bridegroom no bride
so off to the market
with god's help they think
to prop up their image
with trinkets and treats
mix everything up
neglecting the text
still in their worry
of what will come next