| Easter hymn
A rousing chorus for Easter Sunday:
When Britain first at Bush's command
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang this strain;
Rule, Britannia! Britannia maul the waves,
Britain's sailors are such willing slaves.
The nations blest with more oil than thee,
Shall in their turns to Bush's tyrrany fall;
While thy shalt flounder, lost at sea,
The shame and pity of them all.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia maul the waves,
Britain's sailors are such willing slaves.
Our haughty sailors shall easily be tamed,
By eating lunch upon their knees;
Work their woe, and they renounce
Their sightseeing all over Persian TV.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia maul the waves,
Britain's sailors are such willing slaves.
The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair;
Blest Isle! With matchless beauty crowned,
But! We're lost! We could be anywhere.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia maul the waves,
Britain's sailors are such willing slaves.
Last edited by taihunggao : 08-04-2007 at 12:25 PM.
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