Don't set your heart upon the throne, Mrs.
Parker-Bowles
(with apologies to Noel Coward)

Don't set your heart upon the throne, Mrs. Parker-Bowles,
don't set your heart upon the throne,
for the monarchy's not quite ready for a scarlet Queen of
Hearts,
and the bit on the side becoming the bride would overheat the
tarts.
You're the wrong sort:
you're more intelligent than chic,
so don't you think you'd rather seek
A life to call your own?
Have some fun, Mrs. Parker-Bowles.
Run, Mrs. Parker-Bowles!
Don't set your heart upon the throne

Don't set your heart upon the throne, Mrs. Parker-Bowles,
Don't set your heart upon the throne,
When you marry a prince, you wed the institution, don't forget:
You'll be put in a mould, then left in the cold until you're firmly
set.
It's a dream life:
unnervingly disjunctional
implicitly dysfunctional,
a nightmare all your own.
For your sake, Mrs. Parker Bowles,
wake, Mrs. Parker Bowles!
Don't set your heart upon the throne.
Michael Forster
not the
Poet Laureate

Mad Cows | Mrs. Parker Bowles | Nelson on hero-worship | Michael
who? | The stately trains of England | The stately strains of Oxbridge |
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