Is it a diamond?
Is it a pearl?
No, it's a boy or it might be a girl!
The news teams are dehydrated,
they really need a drink,
For this event to be celebrated
Is going to the brink!
Yep, the brink of desperation, the waiting is a bore
But the news will be tiresome, it'll last forevermore.
For God's sake woman, Hurry up!,
It really is too hot!
To even give a monkey's
About your Royal tot!
The TV will be off, until the news' dispersed
And all those tedious speeches
the TV crews rehearsed
Are gone and all forgotten,
for Philip is back in need
Of some more hospital treatment,
he's a whithering seed.
Then the cycle starts again,
cameras at the ready.
Bustling news teams, a weedy bloke
holding mics steady!
Reports on the hour,
the usual talking head,
Secretly hoping they're the first
To announce to the world he's dead!
So hurry up woman! You look like a bloated frog!
Hurry up will ya, and have this blessed sprog.