It's true! We're Blue! The Crowned allayed our fears.
The climate will be perfect for years.

Our law was made consistent with Kyoto:
July and August will not be so hot,
'cause there's a legal limit to C-O-2
In Bamalot.
The winter is for buildin' polar ice caps,
But exits when he reckons 'nough has got.
By order, summer lingers as do price caps
In Bamalot.

Bamalot! Bamalot!
I know it sounds a bit bizarre,
But in Bamalot, Bamalot,
There's now pernicious czar.
Fast trains may never fail or falter, run-down.
For freight, polluting trucks must disappear.
In court, there's simply not
A more ingenious lot
For craftily-clever-altering than here
In Bamalot.

Bamalot! Bamalot!
I know it gives one pursin' jaws,
But in Bamalot, Bamalot,
Those are the regal laws.
The snow may never rush down from the hillside.
Electric juice from sunlight trusts skies clear.
Up short you're simply brought
In morbid menial spot
For sappily-never-laughtering next year
In Bamalot.