I wish I could tork posh, like what the Queen does.
My tork rhymes with wiv pork like what me muvver used to cook on Sundy.
See wot I mean, me muvver rhymes wiv uvver an' when I fink, it rhymes wiv sink.
Where I say me 'stead of my, She says h-wun 'stead of I
Not that that makes any sense, s'like she sit's on anuvver fence.
S'wot comes of sittin' on frones in castles.

I wish I could wear posh clo'se like what the Prince does.
I wears boots on me roots, me jeans are in tatters, not that it matters - I got good'ns for Sundy.
Know wot I mean, I ain't got no suit, an' smell of sweat 'stead of brute
But who cares, our disco's ain't grand, not like 'is brass band
An' I can wear me 'at back to front so I don't want a topper - that's for palaces.