Saturday, 28 March 2009

Address to the Unco Greedy, or the Fiscally Frivolous

O ye wha for exotics fell,
Sae joyous and sae jolly,
Ye'd nought tae dae but buy an' sell,
An' tak yer neibor's lolly!
Wi' hands stuck firmly in the till,
Mere ethics didnae matter;
Now poor Joe Public foots the bill,
For City boys grown fatter!

Hear me, as Sterling hits the floor,
An' outflows gush aortal,
Ye'll rue the day ye voted for,
New Labour, wha now chortles?
Aye, since these thoughtless, careless fakes,
Are sic a bunch o' chancers,
Gie me political earthquakes,
Tae excise Labour cancers.

They've run the state intae despair,
Then City rules made stiffer;
Whiles bringin in the HBOS laird,
Wha sacked the trouble-sniffer;
For though Moore tried HBOS tae save,
By his concerns confidin',
The risk was his tae be sae brave,
An' for it Crosby fired him!

Think Labour, how you us repulse,
Wi' each new steamin' dollop,
O' lies an' spin, yer base impulse,
Twelve years o' pure codswallop!
Ye've spinned and lied while oot ye bailed,
Each bank. Is this the Third Way?
It's on Broon's watch that we've been failed,
Despite the "global" respray!

See Socialist-lite, poor glaikit Brown,
A' half-truths and hoodwinking:
While Goodwin's crucified alone,
This tawdry culprit's shrinking.
O how we pray he'll see too late,
Th' electoral consequences,
An' his mair dreaded, hellish fate,
Deflation o' expenses!

Broon's highly-salted, tortuous claims,
Fly up in a' oor faces.
Before he seeks tae shift mair blame,
Suppose he truth embraces!
Oor dear comrade, convenient shrugged,
When easing regulation,
An' bonus-junkies kept their drug,
Wi' his administration!

Now keenly scan Broon's masterplan,
Tae get thae green shoots bloomin':
Frae us he'll hang (for ages lang!)
Mair debt! How mad he's spumin'!
One point must still be made quite stark,
How Broon sae badly blew it:
"We'll save tomorrow!" his hallmark.
Oor monstrous debt? He grew it!

Who ruled the mart, 'tis he alone,
Decidedly did fry us;
He solves each problem with a loan,
Then prudently acts pious!
As oor imbalance grows acute,
Broon's flush is truly busted!
Oor emperor's in his birthday suit,
Growin' ever mair ham-fisted!


subrosa said...

Did you write that FL? Absolutely great, it could be set to music quite easily too.

ed iglehart said...

Simply brilliant! (as usual)

Keep on keepin' on

Anonymous said...

Lifted from Guido`s ...

I spend my lonely weeks in London
Working for Gordon Brown
And crash out on my sister’s floor
Just as the sun goes down
On Friday nights I head back home,
My second home that is,
To spend some time with my true love
And get some married bliss

Dick’s waiting for me in Redditch,
Get me there driver soon
I want to lie in his strong arms
And go into a swoon
I want to collect his DNA
For my own database
I want to open my bursting blouse
And thrust them in his face

On Friday night when I got home
My second home that is,
Dick said he was all shagged out
And just gave me a kiss
On that fateful Sunday morning,
I read it in the press
Dick’s been watching some dirty films
And got us in a mess

It seems he’s been paying five quid
For “Dirty Debutantes”
Despite what’s bursting from my blouse
It’s not me that he wants
No Tarantino, no Scorsese,
No Bergmann, no Kubrick
You can’t beat old J Arthur
Says naughty, naughty Dick

Now I’m the two homes secretary
And hold the highest rank
But Dick he isn’t that impressed
He’d rather have a wank
Another Monday morning dawns
I’m heading back to town
The saddest thing is that I’ll be
Working for Gordon Brown

Oh Dick! Oh Dick! You stupid prick
I don’t mind pay to view
But you claimed it on expenses
And gave the press their cue
Next Friday when I come back home
My second home that is
I’ll be expecting rather more
Than just a friendly kiss

forfar-loon said...

Thanks subrosa, Ed and mystery caller! Starting to run out of Burns poems to cannibalise (only another few hundred left!). Will sharpen my quill again when time permits...

ed iglehart said...

Have you seen your search results?

Pretty impressive!


ed iglehart said...

Apparently, google (other search engines are available) uses an algorithm which counts how many websites contain links to yours, and how many hits thos websites get, if yours gets a link on a bbc site (even in blog comments) you move towards the top of the ewarch returns...

search tipiglen to see the (unintended) results of my
self referential attitude...

forfar-loon said...

Wow, Brigadoon and tipiglen are famous! More plugs needed on BwB I reckon :oD