Victorian Swagger

[Verse 1] Good day, my fine sirs, do lend me your ear,
Whilst I regale you with stories of riches most dear.
My coin purse doth bulge, my estate doth expand,
I traverse in carriages—horses most grand!

Silk cravat 'round my neck, waistcoat of the finest,
I frequent the opera, 'mongst lords of the highest.
Pockets so deep, they rival the Thames,
Mansions so large, they barely fit frames.

[Chorus]
Oh, tally-ho! I’m the lord of the scene,
The dapperest gent you’ve ever seen!
With guineas and pounds, I’m stacking them high,
The highest-born hustler, my status won’t die.

[Verse 2]
In parlors of grandeur, I sip on my tea,
With pinky aloft, for all eyes to see.
A monocle perched as I survey my land,
No need for toil—I’ve wealth on demand.

Shall I wager a bet at the club with the chaps?
Or perhaps pen a missive in language most apt?
My ledger’s in order, investments all prime,
Whilst commoners struggle, I flourish in time.

[Chorus]
Oh, tally-ho! I’m the lord of the scene,
The dapperest gent you’ve ever seen!
With guineas and pounds, I’m stacking them high,
The highest-born hustler, my status won’t die.

[Bridge]
Thine top hat’s too shabby, thy carriage too slow,
Whence comes thy fortune? 'Tis but shallow show!
Whilst I promenade ‘round with aplomb and with flair,
You struggle for bread, I feast without care.

[Outro]
So here’s my decree, I bid you goodnight,
May your fortunes grow brighter, your pockets less light.
But do not mistake my benevolent tone,
For I am the one who sits on the throne.