The Chingford Christmas Crusade

There’s a girl on a tinsel-clad donkey
Leading the Christmas Crusade
She sits on a Santa Claus blanket
The donkey looks mighty dismayed

Behind, a man rides a camel
Which really ain’t pleased to be here
Three more dressed like comedy Arabs
They seem full of seasonal cheer

A woman in a tinsel halo
Is she Gabriel in her white sheet?
One of the comedy Arabs
Has posh running shoes on his feet

Another carries a speaker
Through which no music is played
The true meaning is holding up traffic
It’s the Chingford Christmas Parade

Rishi Sunak Gives Evidence to the Covid-19 Inquiry

“Constructive candour”, Rishi says
What on earth does he mean?
I’ll tell the whole truth, nothing but
So long as my hands are kept clean

He says he’s very sorry
For what happened to you
But as for what he’s sorry for
We’re left without a clue

Meet the new boss, backs the old boss
The pundits are surprised
That he blames all the science
“We were just badly advised”

“Constructive candour”, Rishi says
We know just what that means
Not the whole truth, nothing but
Just keeping his hands clean

Boris Johnson’s First Day of Evidence to the Covid-19 Inquiry

The dead can’t hear your apologies
The dead can’t see your sly smile
The dead can’t hear you blaming them
Like some oversized child on trail
The dead can’t see the messages
You accidentally lost
The dead can’t ask you questions
But the dead know just the cost
Of your lackadaisical attitude
Your laissez-faire approach
The meetings you weren’t bothered by
The rules with which you did not comply
The business-as-usual you deny
The herd immunity you tried to apply…

The dead can’t hear your apologies
But the survivor understands
There’s blood on your hands

PM meeting – begins to argue for letting it rip. Saying yes there will be more casualties but so be it – “they have had a good innings” – Patrick Vallance’s diary 25 October 2020

The umpire ruffles his hair, raises a finger
The elderly batsman shuffles off
Supressing a cough

More Marbles

Two world wars and one world cup
Looty, Queen Vic’s Chinese pup
The Parthenon Marbles, Rosetta Stone
The ring that Tipu Sultan owned
The Benin Bronzes, here to view
And we’ve got Tipu’s tiger too
Maori heads, the Koh-I-Noor
The Maqdala manuscripts and more

Stuff looted by the Nazis
During World War Two
The seeds of Hevea brasiliensis
And Lander’s Yoruba stool
The Admonition of The Instructress
To the Court Ladies scroll
A tribal warrior’s shield
Said to contain his soul
Moai taken from Rapa Nui
Paintings from the Tang Dynasty
The wine cup of Shah Jahan
A statue of a Luohan
Which is tri-coloured and glazed
Taken from a Yizhou cave

The collection also contains
A variety of human remains
Which probably should be given back
Under the Human Tissues Act
But Britain’s giving nothing up
Two world wars and one world cup

Marbles

Napoleon wanted to buy them
And if it wasn’t for Elgin’s divorce
The Government might not have acquired them
At half the price, of course.
He told them that he had a firman
Although its veracity’s in doubt,
He said I’m telling you the Sultan
Said I could take all the marbles out.
He was going to keep them in private
If it wasn’t for his divorce
Byron thought he was a pirate
And the collection he did not endorse.
Elgin, known to his chums as Tom
The Government said quite legally
Robbed the marbles from the Parthenon
And they took them off his hands most eagerly.
(Though if it wasn’t for his divorce
They might not have had such recourse).
They put them in the British Museum
Which is where they still remain
And is where you’ve got to go to see ‘em
Although if you were to get the train
From Manchester, for example
It would be cheaper to get the plane
To Athens to see the marbles
No wonder the Greeks complain
That Elgin robbed the Parthenon
And Rishi won’t give them back
‘Cause he’s seen the headline with his name on
Rishi’s lost his marbles, let’s bring Boris back.
Yeah, Elgin robbed the marbles
And if it wasn’t for his divorce
Some of Ancient Greece’s marvels
Wouldn’t still be outsourced.

The Unbelievable Susan Hall

They picked my pocket, Susan cried
Unfortunately, Susan lied
(Abetted in her little trick
By LBC and her chum, Nick)

She left her Oyster on the train
And now she’s got it back again
Her cash also came to no harm
But still she’s blaming Sadiq Khan

Picking the Pockets of the Dead

We bow to the crown upon his head
While he picks the pockets of the dead

From Morecambe Bay to Pentire Head
If there’s no kin or will to be read
He’ll pick your pocket when you’re dead

Bona vacantia the paper said
It should’ve gone to charity instead
But we bow to the crown upon his head
And he picks the pockets of the dead

I, For One, Welcome Our New Robot Overlords

Automate the CEOs
Replace the bosses with AIs
Programme them with helicopter views
And thinking straight outta blue skies

An online board meeting runs itself
So let the robots take it
And redistribute the company’s wealth
Amongst the folk who made it

Put Up Shut Up Britain Part Four

Stay in school
Stay off the station
Do not protest
Our wicked nation

Get off the statue
Get on the plane
Do not take us
To court again

If it ain’t compulsory
It’s forbidden
Welcome
To Put Up Shut Up Britain