lady do you hear me

Ramshackle interiors and broken limbs Needy churches come collecting ur funds

The queens is dead ladies 

No hope for return to the blighty ones

Here is transcendence at last

Even black tea and a pastry dish

With frothy milk and honey

Can't console you because

The queen is dead 

Lady don't you hear me 

The queen is dead

Here begins the fun

The sorrow of blood spilled and splattered

Tiaras 

The mellow current in the air 

Saliva you swallow

All choked up in your throat

And a running nose

The queen is dead

Won't you be spaired 

If you follow the funeral line

The memorial is tomorrow