Garden party held today |
| Invites call the debs to play |
| Social climbers polish ladders |
| Wayward sons again have fathers |
| Hello, Dad, hello, dad |
Edgy eggs and queuing cumbers |
| Rudely wakened from their slumbers |
| Time has come again for slaughter |
| O on the lawns by still Cam waters |
| A slaughter, it's a slaughter |
Champagne corks are firing at the sun again |
| Swooping swallows chased by violins again |
| Straafed by Strauss they sulk in crumbling eaves again |
| Oh God not again |
Aperitifs consumed en masse |
| Display their owners on the grass |
| Couples loiter in the cloisters |
| social leeches quoting Chaucer |
Doctor's son a parson's daughter |
| Where why not and should they oughta |
| Please don't lie upon the grass |
| Unless accompanied by a fellow |
| May I be so bold as to perhaps suggest Othello |
Punting on the Cam is jolly fun they say |
| Beagling on the downs, oh please do come they say |
| Rugger is the tops, a game for men they say |
I'm punting, I'm beagling, I'm wining, reclining, I'm rucking, I'm fucking |
| So welcome, it's a party |
Angie chalks another blue |
| Mother smiles she did it too |
| Chitters chat and gossips lash |
| Posers pose, pressmen flash |
Smiles polluted with false charm, locking on to Royal arms |
| Society columns now ensured, returns to mingle with the crowds |
| Oh what a crowd |
Punting on the Cam, oh please do come they say |
| Beagling on the downs, oh please so come they say |
| Garden party held today they say |
| Oh please do come, oh please do come, they say. |