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A judgement on the House of Windsor

You have declared yourself a house divided

Agreed to star in a play directed from abroad

To sink the nation to division, besmirch the flag

A noble prince claims joystick kills in a foreign land

It’s so easy, from an Apache, to kill the soldiers of Allah

But there’s no Tudor rose in Afghanistan today, only white

Retreat to Cali-forn-i-a to californicate half-breed runts

Under direction, special division, “Judeo-Masonry”

Methinks this line unfit to rule, it pisses on the face

Of Christ

So I say, remove the capital to Oxford—old Royalist seat

Burn down the parliamentary redoubts—Hull, Norwich, etc

And topple Cromwell’s statue from his throne, bloody-handed

The House of Windsor is a shit house, we must clean clean today

Under the black flag—not of Allah, but his brother (Grail servant)

A new line by popular acclaim declared, consecrated by Druids

At Stonehenge

This is the verdict—a judgement, in verse. Apaches will rust

The black flag never rusts, it only says “mandate of heaven”


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