Bond Over Backwards
Yes, let’s make some submarine rockets
For squillions and squillions of fivers
And let’s dig our hands in our pockets
Like the best of the cold war survivors:
Let’s make the Russian a bear with a sore head
By spending our cash on a nuclear warhead
Let’s wear an old Smith and Wesson
And down our Martinis when shaken
Let’s teach the bad guys a specialist lesson
When rising from depths like a Kraken
Let’s hunt the Taliban, under the pond
While honking a horn, and bonking James Bond
Defence money’s only for spending
On toys in a great global tub
We sail round in secret, in quiet, pretending
We’re really still part of the club
Let’s strut our stuff in a bow-tie, and cockily,
All co-produced by our Barbara Broccoli
Bang goes the sound of James sniping
Bang go the buildings to hell
Bang goes the Bond the Olympics were hyping
Bang goes the budget as well:
Yes, just what we need when we’re short of a surplus –
Bombs underwater, with no bloody purpose
Click here for a Guardian article
Click here to buy Bill’s poetry collection, Ringers
Click here to buy Bill’s poetry collection Impossible Objects
