England's Plastic Rose

She died in twisted metal at the height of her fame

She learned very well how to play the royal game

Everyone cried over her wasted life

but she was nothing more than a bimbo wife


England's Plastic Rose was nothing but a thorn

Photogenic bait for tabloid porn

People shed a tear at the cost of fame

But better her than someone with a brain


Another royal vampire sucking taxpayer blood

But her silly subjects gave her tears in a flood

They laid a million (guns and) roses outside her marble tomb

A weepy, noxious tribute to celebrity doom


She died a moron's death, never had a last dance

Crashed in a car, her hand down an Arab's pants

No seat belt, slut? Use your fucking head!

It's your own stupid fault that your royal ass is dead!


Die Di die Di die Di die Di

Die Di die Di die


She was pretty and privleged but not very smart

The perfect little sow to play her simple boring part

Smile for the cameras then cry for them too

Better her dead than me or you


Now the funeral's over, now her body's cold

Now her headline clippings all are yellowed and old

But all her fans still weep, and they mourn and pout

That their precious candle got snuffed out


Die Di die Di die Di die Die

(c) 2001 Hidden Agenda


Die Di die Di die