While searching online for old folk music (as I often do), I came across some excellent Tory tunes from ye olde days (i.e. the 17th and 18th centuries), along with some more modern compositions. Possibly my favourite is this one:
(To the tune of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen”):
God rot ye libertarians; you fill us with dismay!
Your atheistic tendencies, your anarchistic way,
Your flaunted immorality leads innocents astray,
But you’ll get yours on Judgment Day, Judgment Day,
Yes, you’ll get yours on Judgment Day!
Other, more ancient Tory songs to follow:
Glorious things of thee are spoken,
Charles the wearer of our crown,
For thy sceptre ne’er was broken,
Nor thy throne e’er battled down.
True-born kings are ne’er cast under
By the means the Roundheads chose;
Even though they rant and thunder,
Thou may’st smile on all thy foes.
Hapsburg, Stuart, Bourbon, Romanoff -
Where are our men great as those?
All we get are unleashed peasants,
Incompetents irrationally chose.
Such petty tyrants, egalomaniacs,
Loosed into the masters’ beds.
How can we expect our liberties
When the masses can’t use their heads?
Naught’s been gained by revolution;
Levelers, grovel in your graves!
Ye who sought the institution
Of a freedom that enslaves
Shall receive no absolution
While St. George’s banner waves!
Always shall we shun pollution
From your swarms of traitor knaves!
In his cornfield, Periander
Nipped the barley stalks, ‘tis said.
Each that stood o’er others grander,
Leveled, lost its golden head.
Thus do tyrant and supplanter
Strive to fill the world with dread.
Yet in vain their toadies pander -
Crown and Right shall ne’er lie dead!
Cavaliers and loyal Tories,
Like the ivy, ever cling
To the past’s untarnished glories!
To the Right we drink and sing.
Fie on modern Liberal mores -
Sovereignty’s a finer thing!
Nobler monarch e’er reigned o’er us:
Charles the Blessed Martyr – King!
And finally…
To Edmund Burke we raise our glasses up!
Damn the French, call the wench,
Bring up another cup
To pass around until we call for more.
Toast the Queen! Drink the Green!
Raise a raucous roar!
Tradition! Tradition!
Raise the cup high, and DON’T ASK WHY!
Tradition! Tradition!
Ours but to do or die.
Heretics beware!
Remember Neitzche’s dead.
It’s no fluke; like the Duke
Of Cambridge always said,
“All change is bad. Progress is perverse.”
Restore the Crown! Sing a round!
Another solemn verse:
Tradition! Tradition!
Raise the cup high, and DON’T ASK WHY!
Tradition! Tradition!
Ours but to do or die!