Old heads whiten, old men shiver.
The bullsh1t carries on forever
Like a stream that runneth ever
In the tabloids, in a river
Flowing down from Downing Street.
Pyred pigs, and gas on ration
Food is short in half a nation,
Petrol looking for a station
But Johnson is replete.
His dim-smooth brow in sunlight glow'd;
His classic education show'd;
Atop his head in tresses flow'd
His burnish'd hair as on he strode,
As he strode down Downing Street.
In the town and in the country
Spreading lies to all and sundry,
Just so that, to put it bluntly,
So Johnson keeps his seat. |  |
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