Green Around The Gills
The grass, you say, ain't greener
Upon the other side –
You claim that your emission's cleaner;
You speak with eco-pride.
Your policies, all polished,
Are emerald and lime;
The other team should be demolished –
It's all for soot and grime.
This can't be true, though, can it,
Despite your soundless bites?
Are you both Hoods who'll save the planet,
In Lincoln-coloured tights?
I doubt it. What you've got there
Is goblin-green, alas –
Some snot-hued, rather hot air,
A load of greenhouse gas.