MOVING UP THE QUEUE
It wasn’t a thing that I’d celebrate
When Thatcher was finally rubbed off the slate;
The dummies who did should recalculate
Cos you’ll know if you’re keeping the score
You’ve moved up the queue by one more.
I started in life at the back of the queue
With billions in front but behind just a few -
An innocent sproglet that hasn’t a clue
But before you’ve been dunked in the font
They’re starting to shuffle in front.
With deep consternation I work out the odds,
Praying it’s him and not me to the gods;
Then blessed relief as I see it’s Ken Dodd
And that David Cassidy too
That’s gone from the head of the queue.
Then Brucie, Fats Domino and Doris Day
All summoned to glory so left us that way;
I rather hoped Boris – but to my dismay
He stuck like a rat in some glue
And shuffled with me up the queue.
Delighted you’d be to be stuck at the rear
You’re only too pleased you’ve to wait one more year
And you can be sure there’s no queue jumpers here;
Hey up! There goes Charles Aznavour!
He’ll not be waiting no more.
And over the heads in front I can see
One or two faces who look back at me
Prince Phillip implores us despairingly
“I’ve saved you a place in the queue”
“No thanks” I say “That spot’s for you”.
And so for myself as I reach certain age
I blend in with many up front wearing beige
Their numbers though dwindling to hundreds, I’d gauge,
Not billions as time was before
So I move up the queue by one more.