Would you like a cup of tea? With milk or sugar? One, two, or three? It’s relaxing, warm, and sweet, The perfect way to take a seat. Tea defines us, it’s in our roots, We’re British, proud in tailored suits. Prim and proper, calm and neat, While chaos reigns across the street. Across the pond, it’s quite a show, Electing TV hosts with flair to go. Leaders firing, scandals mounting, Decency feels like it’s barely counting. They argue online, post after post, Mocking sense while praising ghosts. Twitter—sorry, “X”—a battleground loud, Where reason hides beneath the crowd. But here we sit, with kettle steaming, No guns, no noise, just quiet dreaming. Royalty’s ours, for better or worse, And tea—our comfort, our universe. Would you like another cup of tea? It’s British therapy, don’t you agree?
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