I'll tell of the Battle of Princlings,
As happened in days long gone by,
When Duke William became Prince of Wales,
And 'Arold got frosty penii.
It were this way - one day in October
The Duke, who were always a toff
Having no visits on at the moment,
Had given his fam a day off.
They'd all taken boats to go fishing,
When some chap in William's ear
Said 'Let's go and put breeze up the Sussex;'
Said Bill - 'By gum, that's an idea.'
Prince 'Arold came up as they landed -
His face full of venom and 'ate -
He said 'lf you've come for Regatta
You've got here just six weeks too late.'
At this William rose, cool but 'aughty,
And said 'Give us none of your cheek;
You'd best have your throne re-upholstered,
Your arse will be sore till next week.'
When 'Arold heard this 'ere defiance,
With rage he turned purple and blue,
And shouted some rude words in Saxon,
To which William answered - 'And you.'
Twere a beautiful day for a battle;
The princes set off with a will,
And when both sides was duly assembled,
They tossed for the top of the hill.
Prince 'Arold he won the advantage,
On the hill-top he took up his stand,
With his knaves and his cads all around him,
On his arse with his necklace to 'and.
The Waleses had nowt in their favour,
Their chance of a victory seemed small,
For the slope of the field were against them,
And the wind in their faces an' all.
The kick-off were sharp at two-thirty,
And soon as the whistle had went
Both sides started spanking each other
'Til the swineherds could hear them in Kent.
Now Sussex had best line of forwards,
Well trained both with malice and words -
But the Waleses had best combination,
And when half-time came neither had scored.
So the Duke called his cohorts together
And said - 'Let's pretend that we're beat,
Once we get Sussex down on the level
We'll cut off their means of retreat.'
So they ran - and the Sussex ran after,
Just exactly as William had planned,
Leaving 'Arold alone on the hill-top
On his arse with his necklace to 'and.
When WIlliam saw what had happened,
Moral and upright he drew;
He went right up to 'Arold and pushed him.
He were off-side, but what could they do?
The Waleses turned round in a fury,
And gave back both parry and thrust,
Till the fight were all over bar shouting,
And you couldn't see Sussex for dust.
And after the battle were over
They found 'Arold so stately and grand,
Sitting there with a back-full of dog bowl
On his arse with his necklace to 'and.
(with apologies to Marriott Edgar. Original poem:
https://allpoetry.com/The-Battle-Of-Hastings)
Markle is fucked.
