But all's to no end, for the time will not mend Till the King enjoys his own again.

Ye gentlemen of England That live at home at ease, Ah! little do you think upon The dangers of the seas.

A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill! Hark! don't ye hear it roar now? Lord help 'em, how I pities them Unhappy folks on shore now!

Royal blood isn't blue, it is a jaundiced shade of red and riddled with broken chromosomes

I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.

Now let us sing, long live the king.