Divine Right

I am your king and you shall bow down to me,
my queen, God knows what baby you will give me,
you shall bear me a male heir like Henry said,
failing that, it's quite simply: 'Off with his head.'

We shall hunt deer through verdant Richmond Park,
frolic on the royal barge and drink mead till dark;
they say that he died of syphilis, 'no night hood,'
came to a nasty end, the way that a fool should.       

No one shall disobey me, neither Moore nor Pope;
the priest read the service, full of love and hope,
I shall marry the Queen and be surely circumspect,
in church, someone said loudly that they object.
 
The Queen said; 'You can't say that, I have a divine right,'
'Yes,' 'someone  said, 'and the left one's lovely too.'