Blustering Boris’s Blues

Feel sorry for a Tory Toff.

No one told me to tell the truth.

Of loyalty I always scoff.

Daggered Dave is surely the proof.


Oh to stroll in Rome or Berlin.

It’s a merry dance in Blighty.

England I’ve steeped deep in sin.

Pity the Eton mighty?


It seemed an easy game to play,

To flirt with a rhyme to Garage.

Vote went just an inch the wrong way.

Now the Garage gets to harrage.


Walking with the Garage,

You lose your self-respect.

Nasty ads can’t camouflage

A man who likes to detest.


‘The problem is all the foreigners.’

(That always wins us votes,

Of straw-headed pensioners

Still counting their pence in groats).


Just an ounce of Boris rhetoric;

But  a racist sharpened his ear.

Now things have gone horrific,

With minorities walking in fear.


‘I’ll control all immigration!’

Did I really make that claim?

Let’s talk instead of inflation,

Let Govey take the blame.


Govey tells whoppers the best.

The tear in his eye made us weaken,

‘Europe holed my dad’s nets.’

(Don’t mention the fish all been taken).


‘Just wanted some fun,

Poke Dave in the eye.

Look what I’ve done.

Promised pigs will fly.’


‘350 million

for the NHS?

Purely vaudevillian!

You knew I said it in jest.’


So Europe runs us no more.

We’ve got our own British way.

But before they slam the back door

I’ll ask if we can’t, after all, stay?

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