Well Hung
I am a well-hung government
Though loyal to the Queen
A none-of-the-abovernment
Like well-worn plasticine
A quiet mix of grouses, gripes
And full of oil-and-water stripes
I'm made of perfect wobblers
Like a trifle crossed with jelly
A load of happy cobblers
Which you watch upon the telly
You wonder where the yellow went
As you watch my well-hung government
I am a well-hung government
Which whistles in the dark
A happy rainbow covenant
Above a drifting Ark
A pundit's pleasure, pollster's dream
A Neapolitan ice cream
Like butterflies I flit where
I'm uncertainly appealing
Like Noel Edmonds' knitwear
When he's dealing or no-dealing
I'm streamers blown above a vent
I am a well-hung government
A gobstopper, if sucked, is
Successive tints, I think
Like shades of Garnier Fructis
Or blended printer ink
Acting coolly, never hotly
Dressed in rather fetching motley
Joseph's multi-coloured cloak
Or hippy Sixties legging
Can't match the mixture, each bespoke
Of Cameron-Brown-and-Clegging
My colours blent in each %
I am a well-hung government
