Once Upon A Time, Time Stopped

G o d s a v e t h e Q u e e n

I suppose I should begin with the centre of this story;
Her fences clad with gold

God save our gracious queen !

The first fence, standing tall and strong — tourists weigh on the black metal,
Look up, and you'll see the gold is not real,
The cheap paint like rust peels off of itself.
Though you won't notice
You're awestruck by her soldiers
Clad in red and black
Patrolling
Standing tall and still

Long live our noble queen

And the tour guide remarks
"how many rooms do you think the palace has?"
700+ rooms no one replies,
Except the tour guide
Upon realising the crowd is not up for class

God save the queen;

From herself
The air is rich with petrol,
The city rich with the richest
They're clad in the fanciest and rarest of clothes,
They wear their gold
Much like the queen likes her gold on fences

Send her victorious

Happy and glorious

Hotels out of marble
The butler clad in the mad hatters attire
Driving away the rolls Royce as the guests laugh
And mock as he drags their luggage out of the car
They send him defeated
Sad and elide
Into the grandest of architectural beauty
A stoic build clads the centre —
The sort of aestheticism Dorian Grey would've appreciated
The sort that he lived in,
Though you must remember
Dorian did not outlive his portrait-self
Hedonism sent him into hysteria

Long to reign over us,

God save the Queen.

As opium ruled him
And he ruined himself
Stores as rich as art
As busy as subways
Though you must stop to look at their faces
They're like the rust of the palace gates —
Boredom clads their visages,

Gold chains throttle their necks,
The limousine's back end asphyxiates them.
They do not see the ripper behind their backs

Oh Lord our Queen arise,

Scatter our enemies

And make them fail

Flowers decorate the pubs,
Statues, the streets
Of fallen soldiers
Their names hit by the flashes of cameras,
The people flock to memoirs

Scatter our enemies

I turn the corner from the famous
And there they are - her people

The destitute

And make them fail

Confound their politics

Frustrate their knavish tricks

The house of commons
The house lords
A neo-gothic frank
Frankly, a monstrous build
If the church is the house of God
Parliament is satan's palace
Though it remains shut
Under Borris's reign
A dick-tator if anything

On Thee our hopes we fix

Oh save us all

Fuck the coup
Fuck the coup
Fuck the coup

Thy choicest gifts in store

On her be pleased to pour;

Long may she reign
Long may she reign
Long may she reign

His blanket drenched in the stench of nights on the street
Sleeping behind the high street shops
On the feat of the rich
Lies a thin line of privilege
That separates the poor
His feet as black as the lac of her palace gates
And unlike them, his clothes wear him — they tear,
In a way that is not fashionable, but aged and bare,
There are nights under his fingernails,
Misshapen and black like them,
Distressed jeans,
Stressed from the life he's lived on her majesties streets
He is her people
But the oil comes from the arabs
Stored in their watches 
And sun glasses
They are treated like her people should be

Served
They posses wealth at the cost of humanity

May she defend our laws

And ever give us cause

To sing with hear and voice

Chants shut down the bridge
And nazis brawl with the English flag held high
Fisting the air
But we shout back
"Immigrants are welcome here"
And I stood there still but tall
You voted for Brexit
We voted for home

Irony then
That the very land you call yours
Was built on the back of the slaves
You colonised from oversees
And once you had to set them free
You wanted them out of here
Your jobs they take
Your kids they rape

God save the queen

Not in this land alone

But be god's mercies known

From shore to shore!

Stranded dead from sea
The immigrants washed up on her shore
Look then onto the reflection of the bloodied water
You'll find your greatness within it
Your Great Britain