The royals were always gangsters -
Once in power they can paint out the sleaze -
But it peels in the British weather,
Rather cold, rather wet, with a breeze.

Too thin are the dresses and smiles now -
It’s all played out for the telly -
But the smarmiest editing can’t conceal
That it’s windy and wet and quite chilly.

The gangster bankers enjoy the show -
They laugh at the meaningless tale -
But they can’t order sunshine, the Jubilee dawns
Cold, windy and blowing a gale.