WHAT'S YOURS IS MINE  

A team of Cornish miners

Went to see the King

About the poor price

Of mining their tin

 

Half-way through their complaint

The King rose and left

The confused miners went home

Dejected and bereft

 

But on returning to the mine

They found the King there

Digging away with

Flakes of tin in his hair

 

Hello guys,  I'm here to see for myself

What your job is like

Then come to a decision

Which I hope is right

 

Here's the keys to my palace

Because I'm staying here

I've never had such peace

From that nag, Guinevere

 

 

 

Steve 2005