Sunshine hours are booked
Pre-paid on credit rates
Down at the local salon
Preparing for the wait
On jammed up roads
Draining fuel by the metric gallon
Hoping to find the real thing
On poolside terrace
Or even on the beach
With no hopes of expenses
For holiday homes
When seconds are so out of reach
And pretty soon the
Industrial holidays
Will be just past traditions
As more and more
Businesses close their doors
Paying basic rate and conditions
And where will our MP’s be
While we soak on
Britain’s worsening shorelines?
The effluent of poor excuses
Will be left to get cleaned up
Whilst they jet off to foreign climes
And upon our collective return
The shouting and voting begins
On whom we can politically trust
Leaflets dropped and broadcasts aired
So that tabloid forecasts can predict
When we’ll be really fit to bust
And now Mr Cameron
You’ve given the game away
If turning people into politicians is desired
Because on the job spec
Down at the exchange
There’ll be no previous experience required
So why can’t we just get rid
Of fakery and all this spin
Now the country’s welfare is at stake?
Let’s have some honest passion
Some political commonsense
And just give the electorate a break!
