A Changed Situation

For far too long, I used to say,
Too tolerant we've grown:
Those cunning darkies who obey
Our laws, we leave alone.

This wasn't quite the thing, I thought:
Our love must be more tough.
We must Prevent, Arrest, Deport,
And all that other stuff.

I blathered, less than two months past,
Of scary Muslims who
Might nurse some fiendish plans to blast
A London bus or two.

It brought me votes, it brought me praise,
And I enjoyed eftsoons
Approving belches, barks and brays
From my back-bench baboons.

But, now it's fashionably late,
I find it plain to see:
We must condemn this awful hate,
For it's no use to me.

Davey FitzAnthony