King Henry the VIII

King Henry the eighth
As a husband or mate
Was hardly the best that you’ve seen
If you think this is trite
Or I speak out of spite
Have a quick word with poor Anne Boleyn

His greatest desire
Was to become sire
No! Not in that context you fool.
I know he was king
But that was all bling
He wanted a child that could rule

That he failed to create
Got him in a right state
Num’rous wives he brought to dizzy heights
He broke all the rules
But still his poor tool
Seemed to lie fruitlessly in his tights

Now the poor man had gout
And I have no doubt
That this couldn’t have helped in his quest
But worse sure than this
Was the old syphilis
Which proved, a more virulent test

Frustration, disease
And two dodgy knees
Left him quite buggered in bed
But when his ladies
Just couldn’t conceive
Well, more than the king lost his head

So modern wives list…
And don’t get so pissed
When sex takes the form of a tax
Just think of poor Anne
And the rest of the clan
Cold shouldered is better than axed