Aye, the footmen are frantic in their indignation
You see, "The Queen's took a taxi herself to the station!"
Where the porters, surprised by her lack of Royal baggage
Bustle her and three corgis to the rear of the carriage
For the train it is crammed with all Europe's nobility
And there's none of them famous for their compatibility
There's a fight over seats, "I beg pardon Your Grace
But you'll find that one's mine, so get back in yr place!"
"Aye, but where are they going?" All the porters debate
"Why they're going to Newcastle and they daresn't be late
For they're launching a boat on the Tyne at high tide
And they've come from all over, from far and from wide."
There's the old Dalai Lama, aye and the Pontiff of Rome
Every palace in Europe, and there's nay bugger home
There's the Duchess of Cornwall and the loyal Prince of Wales
Looking crushed and uncomfortable in his top hat and tails
"Why, they haven't got tickets," "Come now, it's just a detail
There was no time to purchase and one simply has to prevail
For we'll get to the shipyards or we'll end up in jail!"
When the last ship sails
Oh the roar of the chains and the cracking of timbers
The noise at the end of the world in your ears
As a mountain of steel makes its way to the sea
And the last ship sails
And whatever you'd promised, whatever you've done
And whatever the station in life you've become
In the name of the Father, in the name of the Son
And no matter the weave of this life that you've spun
On the Earth or in Heaven or under the Sun
When the last ship sails
Oh the roar of the chains and the cracking of timbers
The noise at the end of the world in your ears
As a mountain of steel makes its way to the sea
And the last ship sails
