Blow-A-Job
My look may be hairy and hoary,
I may have had only one hit,
But who can tell Tony from Tory? -
They both speak the same brand of sh**.
They've asked me to join their commission,
Stealing clothes from the emperor's trunk,
Staking out any New Con position,
And to be their political punk.
I'm good for an aster*sk, rank as
The gob-sh*ite who sp**ks what is true -
Dave and his mates may be w**kers,
But they're keen to sound bluer than blue.
And the world knows my great reputation -
So no wonder that C*m*r*n's called:
For I speak for a new generation -
The bolshy, the bug-eyed, the bald.