I want a floating duck house,
I want to clear my moat,
I need to mend my tennis court,
That’s why I need your vote.
I have to build a portico,
My swimming pool needs mending,
My lovely plants need horse manure,
And the Aga needs much tending.
A chandelier is vital,
Mock Tudor boards are great,
My hanging baskets won awards,
And I’ve earned a tax rebate.
I need a glitter toilet seat,
My piano so needs tuning,
Maltesers help me stay awake,
And my orchard must need pruning.
I could have said the rules were wrong,
And often thought I should,
But somehow it was easier,
To profit all I could.
The public really have to see,
That the rules are there to test
And by defrauding taxpayers,
We were just doing our best.
The Speaker of the House has gone,
Our sacrificial beast,
But the public are still praying,
For our corpses at the feast.
What do the public want from us,
Those vote-wielding ingrates?
They really should be grateful
To be financing our estates.
The message is so very clear,
(we’re merely learning late)
That the British way of living well
Is to screw the bloody state.
3 comments:
Can we add this to our compendium of political poetry please?????
If you are compiling one Anna, please help yourself.
Great stuff!
However, I may be missing something here, but does it have a tune? The extra syllable in lines 6 and 8 preclude the Battle Hymn of the Republic, and I'm having trouble fitting it to anything else.
I see it as being one of those public-school, muscular-Christianity, God-is-an-Englishman Victorian ones...
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