Garden Party Marillion

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Garden party held today
Invites call the debs to play
Social climbers polish ladders
Wayward sons again have fathers
Hello, Dad, hello, Dad

Edgy eggs and queuing cumbers
Rudely wakened from their slumbers
Time has come again for slaughter
On the lawns by still Cam waters
A slaughter, it's a slaughter

Champagne corks are firing at the sun again
Swooping swallows chased by violins again
Strafed by Strauss they sulk in crumbling eaves again
Oh God
Oh God, not again

Aperitifs consumed en masse
Display their owners on the grass
Couples loiter in the cloisters
Social leeches quoting Chaucer

Doctor's son, a parson's daughter
Where, why not, and should they oughta
Please don't lie upon the grass
Unless accompanied by a fellow
(May I be so bold as to perhaps suggest Othello?)