My mum and dad, they met the queen.
(Do I sound Bri-ish? sayin’ “mum,” I mean?)
He wore full-dress uniform, squeaky clean.
A dashing couple, right?

Her dress was made of gold lamé –
Her shoes were gold, or so they say –
And with opera gloves, they were on their way
To a very memorable night.

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They saved the invite all this time
(The name’s erased — prevent identity crime)
And that is the end of this pitiful rhyme.
So “Q” is done now. Quite.