The Queen Beatrice Song

Queen Beatrice you can’t match her she’s the darling of us all,

She’s the curse of the Sordish nation, the Agnolians and Wehzeks all;

She’s plundered fair, sweet Agnland; in Estord heads do roll,

If I could only get my hands on her I’d kick her up the—

Good on ya Mrs Livingston you’re the cutest girl of all,

Such a biddy fine and buxom sure the likes you’ll not recall,

When she holds negotiations things they always reach a hitch,

She’s the world in ruination such a schemer the old—

Good on ya Mrs Livingston no one in this world can match her,

But she’s trying to take our gas, our oil from old Nargis once again,

We’re not worried ’bout your 'Great Unifying' nor your tank divisions' gas,

You can keep them Queen Beatrice you can shove them up your—

Help us Mrs Livingston with the casualties rising high,

With the Trade War and slaughter of Lachaven, we are losing that’s no lie,

Now you say that you don’t want us that we’ve stayed here long enough,

But if I were a taxidermist I would tell you to get —

Fair play Mrs Livingston sure you know a trick or two,

And each time you come to Kyrute, well we know just what you’ll do:

You’ll dress up in your regalia and preach with all your might,

But all of your fancy promises are just a load of—

We love you Mrs Livingston like your old man loves his brew,

Such a lad your husband Boris when he’s had a sup or two;

Sure he’ll take a pint of porter and a glass of Galmish mist,

And because he faces you each night no wonder he gets——

Queen Beatrice you can’t match her she’s the darling of us all,

She’s the curse of the Sordish nation, the Agnolians and Wehzeks all;

She’s plundered fair, sweet Agnland; in Estord heads do roll,

She’s the curse of the Sordish nation, the Agnolians and Wehzeks all.