Dumbing Upstairs Downstairs
What would Hudson, former butler,
Make of all this racy life:
Life at Eaton Place unsubtler,
Blood upon the carving-knife?
Pregnant parlour-girls are blubbery,
The master’s hiding in the shrubbery.
Arsenic inside the kipper,
Cook is naked by the oven,
Her Ladyship’s a bodice-ripper,
Mrs. Bridges runs a coven:
The visitors indulge in frolic.
The governess? An alcoholic.
The nursery’s a hive of thuggee,
The cellar’s full of wine and whips,
Every footman is a druggie,
A house-guest likes to flaunt her hips.
The maids are fondling by the fire,
The whole house seething with desire.
Up and downstairs, at their rashest,
The household has dispensed with class.
The butcher-boy’s an ardent fascist;
The gardener likes to flash his arse.
From the scullery to attic
The viewing stats will be dramatic.
Click here for an article in The Independent.