Dick the Shit

Now is that winter of our discontent
A full 500 summers past and gone
Yet still unsettled dust floateth all around
And controversy rageth obstinately on
One calleth me wicked, vile and loathsome toad,
Another washeth me whiter than the driven snow,
Wherein lieth the truth, who knoweth what lies,
And who can say whose word,
Was first to name me "Dick the Shit"
Or "Richard the Turd".

Out of those northern wastes I came,
Loyalty me bound with iron chains
(Not like that Clarence, devious rogue
A m an of straw, a tosspot lewd and vain,)
Beset by Rivers and his rapacious pack
The king a puppet, could I ever turn my back?
As I sat in this viper's nest
Was it so absurd,
To be reborn as "Dick the Shit"
Or "Richard the Turd".

That lackey Shakespeare goodly sealed my fate,
In his Tudor mistress's eyes intent to gain good grace,
And said the devil me in his own image cast,
Made it pissing into the wind to state my case,
And foul Black Annis surely sealed my fate,
Across that West Bridge at the city gate,
May a thousand curses rain on that old crone
A pox descend upon that mad old bird
In eternity to brand me "Dick the Shit"
Or "Richard the Turd".

Young Edward was a wan and sickly youth,
Unfit for rule and not long for this life,
I saw the nation soaked in blood anew
Go to it, Brackenbury, no sentiment , small sacrifice,
By Buckingham well goaded , both those lives I snuffed,
Ere even he betrayed me and his head rolled in the dust.
My kingdom for some common sense, as my horse I onward
Into history as "Dick the Shit"
Or "Richard the Turd".