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]