To his best chum says Britain's Head Boy:
"All grief is political joy!
When crowds come and boo,
Just have a boo-hoo,
Like me with my dead baby boy!"
The cathedral is filled to capacity
As they plant the doyenne of rapacity.
Does George shed a tear,
Or is it a mere
Increase in his normal sebacity?
Whatever expedience forges
This weepy persona of George's,
It's all very moving
And jolly improving
And uplifts a good many gorges.
I wonder what he had to squeeze to produce that tear...
ReplyDeleteAnd now I'm going to have to spend considerable time and moral effort in trying not to wonder the same.
ReplyDelete