[Caveat lector: This ode was written as a Satyr in a previous age, and, being no longer of present Topick, its author, this humble Scribe, begs that his audience will treat it therefore as it is, a memorium to the Public Sentiment of its time.]
The Love-Song of J. Gordon Brown
Let us go then, you and I,
When the deficit is spread sky-high
Like a nightmare, predicted by Vince Cable.
Let us go through ancient, muttering retreats,
The dusty old defeats,
Of bills, and acts, and Question Time ordeal,
And failure that no-one dare conceal.
Our manifesto wanders like a tedious argument,
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming Problem;
O, do not speak to me of mores:
Let us go, and blame the Tories!
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