NOTE: Lyrice that are UNDERLINED were spoken by an announcer.
Lyrics:
The following cell phone conversation was recently intercepted in Great Britain
It's Real. No Kidding
Camilla: Oh, Charles, Charles
Charles: Camilla, Camilla
Camilla: I can't bear a Sunday night without you
Charles: No, of course not
Camilla: I can't start the week without you
Charles: I fill up your tank
Camilla: Yes, you do
Charles: Then you can cope
Camilla: Then I'm all right
Charles: Trouble is, I need you several times a week
Camilla: Mmmm. I need you all week
Charles: Oh, God, I'll just live in your trousers or something
Camilla: What are you going to turn into, a pair of knickers?
Charles: Or a tampax
Camilla: What a wonderful idea; perhaps you could come back as a
box
Charles: What sort of a box?
Camilla: A box of tampax
Charles: Oh yes, I see
Camilla: Night night, my darling
Charles: Night night, God bless
Camilla: I do love you and I'm so proud of you
Charles: I'm so proud of you
Camilla: Don't be silly, I've never achieved anything
Charles: Yes you have
Camilla: No I haven't
Charles: Your great achievement is to love me
Camilla: Easier than falling off a chair
Charles: You suffer these indignities and tortures and calumnies
Camilla: That's love
Charles: Night night
I've been a naughty Neddy
I've botched my marriage, let my people down
But now some Horrid Harolds
Say this makes me unfit to wear the crown
Aside from feeling cross and somewhat persecuted
I'm feeling at a loss to think of other work for which I'm suited
Let's give it some thought
I need a sinecure
Where, when your judgment's poor
It doesn't repercuss
Where lack of common sense
And some incompetence
Are actually a plus
Where one are much admired
Where one cannot be fired
And all the world one's praises blindly sing
If I cannot be a tampon
I am determined to be king
As head of Church Of England
It's true the king exerts a moral force
But since its very founding
The whole point of our church has been divorce
Diana's but a modern Anne Of Cleves, without a doubt
This Henry's had his fill of her. Now show the lady out
She's bred some lovely heirs
But like all tired mares, to pasture she must go
I'm such a randy wag
I've other quail to bag
Camilla, tally-ho!
How sad my true ambition
Can never reach fruition!
I'll never get to trail that funny little string
But if I cannot be a tampon
I'm determined to be king
If that cardboard applicator can't ensheathe me
Then let me sit where everyone's beneath me
Upon the throne my mommy must bequeath me
Oh, I am determined
I am determined to be king
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