Well, looks like I ‘m about to get the ol ‘ boot from Buckingham Palace. This dump is falling apart, and I ‘m gonna be left without digs before too long. And I guess some anti-monarchy-types are saying I shouldn ‘t be living here anyhow ‘ that this place should be a museum for the people of England. Can ‘t say I disagree with ’em too much.
Hell, I always knew this day would come, so I ‘m ready. It ‘s time ‘ time for the Queen of England to hit the open road.
Contrary to what you may be thinking, I don ‘t need no lah-di-dah feather-down mattress for my bed, and no sissy silk PJs, neither. From now on, I ‘ll just lay my head on my bindle full of priceless crown jewels and sleep out under the stars, wherever I settle down for the night. I ‘ll live off the land, brewing my tea from the nettles and dandelions I gather, and cook out over a barrel fire every night ‘ Hen of the Woods, lichens, roadkill, and other ‘delicacies” I dig out of the dirt or find in unattended garbage heaps; just living a real simple life, taking only what I need and nothing more.
And I ‘m sure if a kindly farmer sees the Queen of England sneaking a couple eggs from his chicken coop, he ‘ll have the decency to look the other way. After all, I ‘ve put my time in, and I think I ‘ve earned the privilege of taking a couple free squirts of milk from a cow ‘s teat or the occasional pie cooling on a windowsill.
And no need to be driven everywhere in some fancy-dan Rolls Royce anymore. I ‘ll just hitchhike wherever I go. People will pick me up and say, ‘Where ya headed, Queen?” and I ‘ll reply, ‘Oh, it don ‘t matter too much to me. I just blow with the wind,” and off we ‘ll go, ready for just about anything.
In the summertime, I ‘ll float on a raft down lazy rivers, skinny dipping in the clear water every now and again to cool off.
Sure, there ‘ll be tough times ‘ knife fights with other drifters for boxcar space, busting up chumps who got something to prove and want to be a big shot by trying to take out the Queen. But mostly, it ‘ll just be living totally in the moment, rolling with everything as it comes.
And I ‘ll be happier and more free than any sad ol ‘ lady kept up in her gilded palace, closed off from really living life. ‘Cause I know now that even a prison made of gold is still a prison.
See ya around.