Who are the British people anyway?
The ones who with Conservatives agree
And only them? Are we allowed to be
The people now? Are we allowed to say
A word against the government today?
Free speech, you say, but not the BBC
It’s not for that you pay the licence fee
To let the lefty woke get in the way
The who? The woke, the liberal elite
The Linekers, the Attenboroughs, you
And every other person in your street
Who disagrees with what the Tories do
Be quiet you, while we turn up the heat
It’s not as if you’re British people too
© Gail Foster 10th March 2023
Politics
There Once Was A PM Called Rishi
There once was a PM called Rishi Whose plans for the future were wishy And washy but hey At the end of the day He had lovely teeth and was dishy © Gail Foster 4th January 2023
He Always Was Conservative, Was Fred
He always was Conservative, was Fred 'The one thing they will never take away - Conservative and proud!' he used to say 'And British. British born and British bred' He liked a bit of bunting on the shed And Elgar, bits of which he liked to play Upon his trumpet on Election Day 'To keep away the immigrants' he said When Boris came at first he liked him well But then there was the party thing, and he Was not impressed by that, nor by the smell Of bullshit, Truss's rubbish, his MP - The list went on. He just said 'Fucking Hell!' And died, they said, in front of the TV © Gail Foster 21st October 2022
What Company They Keep
On the introduction of the phrase 'anti-growth coalition' to the Conservative lexicon The Ministry of Silly Words devised A phrase designed to bring about division So dreadful it was worthy of derision One has to wonder why one is surprised Or that one is, with others so despised Described as being in some coalition So comprehensive in its composition That definition would be ill-advised Wait - anti-what? The anti-what are who? The enemy. The enemy is me? And anyone who dares to disagree Apparently, with anything they do What words they use to lull us all to sleep! How dull they are. What company they keep © Gail Foster 7th October 2022
Elizabeth Said
I'm delighted, said Liz, to have won in the vote Even though I am up against Rishi, the scrote I'm not looking behind me I'm looking ahead You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said I'm excited, said Liz, and I'm ready to hit The ground running. I'm up against Rishi, the shit But I'm really alive even though I look dead You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said I'm invited, said Liz, by my mates the MPs To go up against Rishi. I know about cheese And I know about pork so I'll keep us all fed You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said I'm far sighted, said Liz, though I struggle to see And I'm up against Rishi, who's richer than me There is nothing unsavoury under my bed You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said There's wrongs to be righted, said Liz, I'm the one To right all the wrongs what the government done Though there's nothing at all going on in my head You can trust me. I'm Liz Truss, Elizabeth said © Gail Foster 20th July 2022
Mr Sheen
Imagine, if you will, the sorry scene The morning after, when, for all their sins You've had to go and empty all the bins At Downing Street. You didn't want to clean Who does? You spray a mist of Mr Sheen And polish, then you pick up all the tins With fag butts in, and bottles of fruit gins With lipstick on, and wonder who has been The twat who spaffed the red wine up the wall Or drunk enough to decorate with sick The silken carpets running up the hall If you were rich you'd tell them where to stick Their fucking job, their fag butts, and their wine - You spray a bit more Mr Sheen, and shine © Gail Foster 26th May 2022
Boris Had A Little Do
Boris had a little do With biscuits and with cheese As little bits of blossom blew Upon the British breeze It was against the rules but hey As if he gave a toss It was a warm and sunny day And Boris was the boss Be sure your sins will find you out And somebody did tell And everyone began to shout 'What is that horrid smell?' 'It's Boris Johnson's lucky pants He coughed and followed through!' And suddenly the sycophants (Except for one or two Or three or four or five or six) Did hail a passing bus And chucked him under it. Mud sticks And no-one wants a fuss 'Alas poor Boris. Knew him well But didn't want to be Associated with the smell' They said. 'It wasn't me!' Said Boris, bleating like a lamb His back against the wall 'I'll go get Jonathan Van Tam And he'll explain it all' But silence was the stern reply Expedience the crack And so the shit began to fly And Boris got the sack Or did he? Will he? Won't he? What? His fleece is white as snow And even though he's lost the plot There's still the book to go 'It wasn't me!' he said. But there Was no-one left to hear He ran his fingers through his hair And poured another beer And waited for the storm to pass Which only took a while For being of a certain class And of a certain style The shit slid off him easily So shiny was his skin And sure enough and sleazily He slipped his way back in And had another little do With biscuits and with cheese And laughter on the breezes blew All through the London trees And all was well for Boris, hey For no-one gave a toss It was a warm and sunny day And Boris was the boss © Gail Foster 11th January 2022
Hancock Goes Shopping
Matt Hancock went down to the shop
With his knob out. ‘It’s OK I’ll pop
A mask on my face
And leave plenty of space
And I’ve got lots of flags on my top’
Matt Hancock, enjoying the breeze
Round his gonads, went round by the cheese
And selected salami
Some gherkins, pastrami
Some wonky bananas, and peas
Matt Hancock then picked up The Sun
And saw he was in it. ‘What fun!
And, may I say
What a glorious day
For getting, er…everything done!’
Matt Hancock skipped out to the car
Where his bird (altogether now, ah!)
Was waiting. ‘It’s hot’
She said, ‘and you forgot
Your trousers again. You’ll go far’
Matt Hancock relaxed in his seat
With his knob out, and put up his feet
On the dashboard. ‘Drive on’
He said, then they were gone
Leaving skidmarks all over the street
© Gail Foster 25th June 2021
Nothing Fair In Love Or War Or Ever Was In Politics
(a parody of The Major-General’s Song by Gilbert and Sullivan)
I am the very model of a Police and Crime Commissioner
A Master of the Hunt and a Conservative practitioner
A fine upstanding Councillor and long standing parishioner
Consider me when voting for your next Tory Prime Minister
(Consider him when voting for your next Tory Prime Minister)
I know a man who knows a man who said that it would be OK
Nudge nudge wink wink and say no more and go and do it anyway
I claim the moral high ground but it’s not an easy thing to do
I have to climb a horse so I can see over the top of you
(He has to climb a horse so he can see over the top of you)
I’m very good at plastering my posters over all the land
The farmers in the area all know me well and understand
That I have little time to practice pleasantness or charity
And I consider hunting an acceptable barbarity
(And he considers hunting an acceptable barbarity)
A major in the army once I was but not a general
Some say that my position there may well have been untenable
But here in Wiltshire no-one gives a toss about your history
As long as your rosette is blue the rest may be a mystery
(As long as your rosette is blue the rest may be a mystery)
I’m interested in most matters appertaining to the law
And glad that you have understood exactly what your vote is for
And even though I’ve proved to be entirely unselectable
I’m not at all apologetic that I’m unelectable
(He’s not at all apologetic that he’s unelectable)
Sound the horn the battle isn’t over till the fat boy’s won
I’m not averse to blasting pigs apart and yes I’ve got a gun
And woe betide you if you didn’t buckle down and vote for me
Or worse you are a person who’s inclined to writing poetry
(Or worse you are a person who’s inclined to writing poetry)
In past lives I may well have been on rampages and pillages
And been the subject of some whispered gossip in the villages
But nothing you have ever heard is anything of note to me
As long as you still doff your cap and go along and vote for me
(As long as you still doff your cap and go along and vote for me)
Onwards ever onwards from the Plain and up to Swindon Town
With thousands of my followers all following with noses brown
Be reassured it’s nothing that the Tory party cannot fix
There’s nothing fair in love or war or ever was in politics
(There’s nothing fair in love or war or ever was in politics)
So if you voted for me why I thank you for your interest
And all the pictures posted on the bus stops and on Pinterest
And even though I’m not the new Police and Crime Commissioner
Consider me when voting for your next Tory Prime Minister!
(Consider him when voting for your next Tory Prime Minister!)
© Gail Foster 11th May 2021
Carrie Symonds and the Fish
Carrie Symonds sniffed the air
And wondered what the smell
That came from Cummings’ office was
Now he had gone to hell
How odious the man had been
And oh how he did hate her
So much that he had left a fish
Behind the radiator
Carrie Symonds got the fish
And threw it in the bin
How very nice the office looked
Without the Cummings in
But all the same there did remain
A funny sort of smell
And so she had it swept and cleaned
By MI5 as well
© Gail Foster 14th November 2020