Gray The curfew tolls the knell of parting day The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea The ploughman homeward plods his weary way And leaves the world to darkness and to pants
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold And she's buying a stairway to heaven And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed With a word she can get what she came for
Mary Hopkin circa 1972... Those were the pants, my friends We thought they'd never end We'd sing and dance for ever and a day Sing of the life we'd chose We'd thought we'd never lose Those were the pants Oh yes those were the pants
To sum up: your father, whom you love, dies, you are his heir, you come back to find that hardly was the corpse cold before his younger brother popped onto his throne and into his pants, thereby offending both legal and natural practice. [Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead]