Matters of Taste
Merry Christmas from the Tories,
Banging on their Irish drums:
Ultra vires, ultra mores,
Scavenging for comfort’s crumbs:
Yum! Mmm!
Not in tune with rhymes or reasons,
Totting up fantastic sums –
The turkey of their greedy season’s
Rotting in the national gums:
Yum! Mmm!
Boris gulps his peach juice quickly,
Philip sucks a withered thumb,
Liam’s skin is thick and sickly,
The country’s tongue is rimmed with scum:
Yum! Mmm!
Tell a fib, and find it tasty,
Till your lips are blue but numb:
The cheek is bloodless, thin and pasty –
They taste of ash, of kingdom come:
Yum! Mmm! Yum! Mmm! Yum! Mmm!
Click here for a Telegraph article