Sunday Morning Bed.

Tis early morn in london town.
Tis the place where that man named Charles sits on a throne and wears a diamond and ruby covered crown.
Christ the thought of it does get me down.
To me he is just a spoiled pampered privileged clown.
Anyway let’s get back to my so called ode.​​​​​​
Tis early morn and i am still in bed in my humble abode.
Day sunday.
On this day i don’t go out to play.
I stay indoors and relax.
And with the wife we have relaxed sex.
We kiss and cuddle and eat and drink.
And sometimes into deep sleep we unconsciously sink.
We watch tv and maybe read.
And our pet dog we Michelin star feed.
Outside the sunday sky is damp and grey.
When the clock strikes noon to our creator we kneel and pray.
We ring our loved ones and our trusted friends.
To them we talk about all of the new incoming trends.
Sunday is my stress free day.
Never ever on sunday do i make hay.
All day i dress in the nude.
Oh please don’t think i am strange and crude.
Tis sunday morn in london town.
I am in bed naked i don’t possess no dressing gown.
Stay cool.
And remember the deep blue oceans brittania no longer rule.