Taking the salute

Britain’s an old biscuit tin
With its lid kept tightly shut
And when you do get inside
You find 
Someone’s taken all the best ones
Left you with a few stale crumbs
So you pop the lid back on
Boil the kettle
Make a cup of tea
And think, ah well
At least it’s got that picture of the Queen
The nice one 
With her sitting side-saddle on Burmese