It's a day that a mother oft dreams of,
When her son to the altar repairs
And the minister gives them his blessing
And they traipse down St. Paul's hallowed stairs.
But that marriage has already happened
When my Charles had his wedding to Di.
Now he's planning a very faint echo.
Who would turn up for that one? not I.
It is not that they both were adult'rous
And their previous marriages tanked
Because neither could give up the other
And they both should be royally spanked.
And it's not that the pairing is tacky
That I'm planning to stay well away,
No, it's just that I'm washing my hair then.
Chalk it up to one more bad heir day.