In the pub last as we started on our first round and raised our glasses I jokingly said, "God save the King". I accidentally sounded like some serf from the middle ages holding up a flagon of dirty ale and downing it in one. On days like these it seems like we've hardly moved on, we know our place. Ridiculous royal families, archbishops submitting pointless prayers, fussy courtiers, stuffed up royal protocol and the swarm of odious media sycophants. It'll be a long, dreary September.
Every family has it's grief and tragedy and it's right to celebrate the long life of a loved one but ... I'm already tired of it. Also, nobody is going to find it easy to sing "God save the King" ever, it just sounds even more wrong than it ever sounded. It's a shit tune and a shit set of words. It never did sound right to me in any shape or form, now it's just some crazy thing we can't escape.
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