Oh, the minstrels sing of an English King
Who lived long years ago,
Who ruled his land with an iron hand,
Though his mind was weak and low.
He love to hunt the royal stag
Within the Royal wood.
But better than this, he loved the bliss of pulling his Royal pud.
Chorus I
He was dirty and lousy and full of fleas
And his terrible tool hung down to his knees---
God save the bastard king of Eng-a-land.
Now the Queen of Spain was an amorous dame,
And a sprightly wench was she,
And she longed to fool with His Majesty's tool
So far across the sea.
So she sent a Royal message
With a Royal messenger
To ask the King to bring his ding
And spend a week with her.
Chorus II
He was dirty and lousy and full of fleas
He had his women by two and threes.
God save the bastard king of Eng-a-land.
When Philip of France, he heard by chance
He swore before his court,
"The Queen prefers my rival
Just because my dork is short."
So he sent the loyal Duc d'Alsace
To slip the Queen a dose of clap
To pass it on to the bastard
King of Eng-a-land.
Chorus I
He was dirty and lousy and full of fleas
And his terrible tool hung down to his knees---
God save the bastard king of Eng-a-land.
When news of this foul deed was heard
Within fair Windsor's Walls,
The King swor by the Royal Whore
He'd have the Frenchman's balls.
So he offered half his kingdom
And the hole of Queen Hortense
To any sod who brought him the rod
And the nuts of the King of France.
Chorus II
He was dirty and lousy and full of fleas
He had his women by two and threes.
God save the bastard king of Eng-a-land.
So the brave young Duke of Buckingham
Betook himself to France
Where he made a pass and stripped the sash
From the Royal pajama pants.
Round Philip's dong he tied a thong,
Jumped on his horse and galloped along,
Dragging the Frenchman
Back to Eng-a-land.
Chorus I
He was dirty and lousy and full of fleas
And his terrible tool hung down to his knees---
God save the bastard king of Eng-a-land.
Now the King threw up his breakfast
And he fainted on the floor,
For in the ride his rival's pride
Had stretched a yard or more.
Then all the maids of Eng-a-land
Came down to London Town,
And shouted round the battlements
"To hell with the British crown!"
Final Chorus
So Philip of France usurped the throne.
His scepter was his Royal Bone.
God save the bastard King of Eng-a-land.