It's happened, since that fabled day - finally steeped into mad disarray.
Great job UK, one fell swoop and we're landed with Theresa May.
A new, centrist, righter than Reich
To delve us into turbid plight
As the opposition bifurcates in spite.
Not content with demolishing the poor, or spiting the disabled,
Failed plans to curb a deficit has clearly been enabled
By these immigrants, who give us life,
An NHS thus locked in strife,
Without whom the scalpel might well be a blunted knife.
These foreign workers, workers, still - blamed for taking benefits,
Despite the working title the English disaffected
Will blame it on them,
It's not our fault it's them,
It's not our fault, the 88%, of course it's not, it's them.
Well, not all of them, it's okay for some - we'll cheer on Mo Farah crossing the line
The Greatest British Olympian of all time,
Lauded, truly, one of a kind
Of Somalian birth,
When then do we mind?
Clearly, if you were born here, the rest are of no worth,
The ones who fill the jobs we need for which we have a dearth.
A register of foreign birth,
As Amber reaches from the hearth
The scolded words of a time gone by and a more unsavoury world.
Yes Theresa, forward we go, back to an insular land.
A global country open for business, as long as you understand -
You can't stay here, you can't work here,
A world citizen is of nowhere.
Well fine then Theresa, I'd rather be anywhere but here.