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letra de on her silver jubilee - leon rosselson

-verse 1-
i remember, i remember when my world was hardly grown
and the daughter of a dead dull king ascended to the throne
and though i was just a lad at school i saw it all with scorn
the solemn, sacred emptiness, the monumental yawn
and the slime exuding daily from the sycophantic slugs
and the coronation ashtrays and the coronation mugs
and the rows of urban (?) mummies with their maggot-eaten brains
all the swarms of bloated blowflies the majestic t-rd sustains
droves of decorated d-ch-sses like newly-painted slums
kneeling flunkeys, praying monkeys, loyal holes for royal crumbs
and the well-heeled sharks discreetly selling tickets for the show
park lane balconies with champagne at a thousand quid a throw
“come and cheer the golden fairy queen, forget your daily cares
for she radiates a glory that a grateful nation shares”
and the pageantry, the panoply, the sanctified decay
but i knew the hour was coming that would sweep it all away
now time has me in a corner, and i’m moth-eared (?) from the fray
but her majesty is reigning still today
-chorus-
with a glass cage around her and an absence in her eyes
and though regiments around her they can’t take her by surprise
she’s as poised as a picture, she’s a sight for all to see
with a glass cage around her on her silver jubilee
with a glass cage around her she feels free

-verse 2-
i remember 1956, division east and west
british paratroops in suez, russian tanks in budapest
and the peaceful marchers singing for the dream that must come true
of a world free from the nightmare we’ve since grown accustomed to
and the cuban missile crisis with the rumors flying round
while the queen was in her secret bomb-proof palace underground
and the violence exploding when anger made a stand
for a peasant people burning in a torn and tortured land
and the monarch walked her corgis behind the palace wall
never once betraying what she felt or if she felt at all
while her husband shout his mouth off like a walking blunderbuss
she gave birth to royal children with a minimum of fuss
maintained her wax-worked dignity as she trot the royal dance
fulfilled her royal functions in a kind of royal trance
balmoral, ascot, sandringham, the ship-launching routine
palace banquets, garden parties, ever-smiling and serene
unique symbol, model woman, never seeing, always seen
so we watched her as she played at being queen
-chorus-
with a glass cage around her and an absence in her eyes
and though regiments around her they can’t take her by surprise
she’s as poised as a picture, she’s a sight for all to see
with a glass cage around her on her silver jubilee
with a glass cage around her she feels free

-verse 3-
she seems so commonplace a woman in her fuddy-duddy hats
but she doesn’t stand in bus queues or live in high-rise flats
she doesn’t ride the rush hour or cycle down the strand
and she doesn’t play maracas in the ivy benson band
and she doesn’t shop for bargains, she’s never on the dole
and if she does the football pool, she doesn’t tell a soul
and she doesn’t need to bother with the inland revenue
though she’s royally rewarded for the things she doesn’t do
with palaces and properties and to keep her in good cheer
her working wage of one point seven million pounds a year
her royal plane, her royal train, a costly royal yacht
and lucrative investments in only god knows what
oh, the magic of the monarchy, the mystery sublime
growing gracefully and effortlessly richer all the time
she’s the rock of hope and glory in the quicksand of despair
for although the pound may tumble, although panic fills the air
although government may crumble, and the cupboards nearly bare
though the stairs begin to rattle, and the rats begin to stare
she enfolds in mystic unity her subjects everywhere
and we know we’re safe from harm while nanny’s there
-chorus-
with a glass cage around her and an absence in her eyes
and though regiments around her they can’t take her by surprise
she’s as poised as a picture, she’s a sight for all to see
with a glass cage around her on her silver jubilee
with a glass cage around her she feels free

- leon rosselson

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