Lines written at the time of the Withdrawal Agreement. After John Milton
Of Britain’s folly, and the fateful vote
Which caused old men on ancient deeds to dote
And vainly to believe false stories
Of sovereignty, control and future glories,
Sing, heav’nly Muse, and with poetic sorties
Reveal the lies and falsehoods of the Tories.
Raise for England’s sake the flame
Of truth, which will expose the blame
Of those whose acts deserve the shame
And whom just infamy will claim.
Arise, oh Milton, yet again,
To cleanse once more poor England’s fen,
Its cesspit filled with knaves and fools
Who never learned at their fine schools
That Englishmen play by the rules,
That word is bond, and debts are paid
And contracts entered aren’t betrayed.
Past victories were won at Eton,
But now the old boys face a beatin’,
While he who learned his sums at Dulwich
Still found his ethics in the rubbish.
In Brussels as they deals pursue
They’ll meet instead their Waterloo,
For Britain’s team of politicians
Cannot match the grand Commission’s
And Oxford’s best turn out inferior;
Those of l’ Ecole Normale - superior.
Are these the tariffs, this the trade, the deal,
Said then the Brexiteers; is this for real
The list of protocols, the book of rules
To which we’ve signed our names, like fools?
Is this the best agreement for the state
To which we have tied Britain’s fate?
How dare we show our chagrined face?
How dare we now to take our place
Among the heroes of our race?
Our prospect now is dark disgrace.
