Lovely and Peaceful
Nigel, you’re lovely and peaceful
With your purr and the scurf on your lips:
With the tongue of a genial greaseball
Who’s snaffled his enemy’s chips –
There’s a light in each eye as you ponder
The dead and the dying. It’s pink:
You’ve the charm of an old anaconda
When he comes to a cess-pool to drink –
You’re so quick on the draw with extremists!
You spot them where no-one else can:
Refugees struggling through sea-mist
Are revealed to have murderous plans –
As you sit there, your hands seem to spread
As if casting out demons. Their sin?
They've never been born or been bred –
It’s as if they live under your skin –
In saloon bars, you speak of tradition,
Almost dancing the Roger De Coverley,
Always passing the British audition,
For you are so peaceful and lovely,
And the way that your tone is so placid,
So charming, so smooth and so spick –
And we laugh at your fountains of acid,
You vicious and self-serving prick.
