Chamber Music
Here is the end of the peerage
Here we will run out of stoat
The sort who you thought were in steerage
Or possibly sailing the boat
Are filling their seats where we once filled our boots
They don’t have the nose for protecting our roots
Lloyd George, it is said, knew my father
But Pa never knew of Lloyd George
Did my people despise him? Well rather
The crowds here put bile in his gorge
Now there’s a thousand want red seats to kip
The whole bloody system is sinking the ship
The pay here is frightfully meagre
But that doesn’t impinge on this crew –
My God they’re so awfully eager
And none have a notion or clue
I blame the Cabinet. Most went to Eton
Quite frankly the lot of them ought to be beaten
And wait till this Labour poll’s over
And they’re under King Corbyn the First
They’ll all want to join us in clover
Before Jeremy works up a thirst
We’ll not see the Woolsack, and, fearful to say
We’ll not see what wine we are drinking today
Click here for a Telegraph story
Click here for a Guardian story
