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.