SONG
OF PATRIOTIC PREJUDICE
SONG
OF PATRIOTIC PREJUDICE
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The
English, the English, the English are best
I wouldn't give
tuppence for all of the rest.
The rottenest bits of these
islands of ours
We've left in the hands of three unfriendly
powers
Examine the Irishman, Welshman or Scot
You'll find he's
a stinker, as likely as not.
The Scotsman is mean, as we're
all well aware
And bony and blotchy and covered with hair
He
eats salty porridge, he works all the day
And he hasn't got
bishops to show him the way!
The English, the English, the
English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the
rest.
The Irishman now our contempt is beneath
He
sleeps in his boots and he lies through his teeth
He blows up
policemen, or so I have heard
And blames it on Cromwell and
William the Third!
The English are noble, the English are
nice,
And worth any other at double the price
The
Welshman's dishonest and cheats when he can
And little and dark,
more like monkey than man
He works underground with a lamp in his
hat
And he sings far too loud, far too often, and flat!
And
crossing the Channel, one cannot say much
Of French and the
Spanish, the Danish or Dutch
The Germans are German, the Russians
are red,
And the Greeks and Italians eat garlic in bed!
The
English are moral, the English are good
And clever and modest and
misunderstood.
And all the world over, each nation's the
same
They've simply no notion of playing the game
They argue
with umpires, they cheer when they've won
And they practise
beforehand which ruins the fun!
The English, the English,
the English are best
So up with the English and down with the
rest.
It's not that they're wicked or naturally bad
It's
knowing they're foreign that makes them so mad!
For the
English are all that a nation should be,
And the flower of the
English are Donald (Michael)
Donald (Michael) and Me!
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