Can’t Bury the Tales - The Politicians Tale
November 6th 2007 11:53
The politicians tale is one of woe and
A litany of promises written in sand
He journeys upon the election trail
To be leader of the party is the holy grail
Just one more term is his catch cry
Just one more, he says, before I die
His Disciple, Peter, sharpens his knife
After all, it’s just another political life
Two terms, you said, and the job was mine
So why are you now wasting my time
But the party, it says, comes first
So Peter must wait to slake his thirst
For the voters remember the GST rake
Peter’s tax of Grab, Steal and Take
Besides the voters might bellow
If we try to run Abbott and Costello
It won’t matter how we coat it in honey
The people just won’t think it’s funny
And so Never Ever Johnny flies hither and yon
Georgies sheriff, the saviour of everyone
Except, perhaps, small children overboard
And those who find drugs in with their surfboard
Refugees receive his most tender attention
And are offered the best, five star, detention
While citizens overseas are deported
And this fact is never reported
If we should ever be found out
It was Labour’s fault, is what we will shout
After all it was they that wrote the act
We only mention it with great tact
Visitors to our shores we would never detain
But our hands are tied, we can’t refrain
We beg you, please, look at the good we do
Our neighbours love us, really it’s true
Timor to the north we saved from slaves toil
For the amazingly small sum of half their oil
A share in this bounty the poor might think
But first they must answer to centrelink
Made to jump hoops by Johnny’s minister
It all smacks of something far more sinister
All the disabled who are surely shirking
On the streets they should be working
Lazy, he says, poor management and greedy too
Cut the wages of the poor, that’s what we’ll do
It’ll create jobs, just mark my words, you’ll see
The greatest thing for them is what it will be
And those whose crime is to be fifty years old
Will do their penance by working for the dole
Single mothers their children will have to sell
To appease Johnny’s vision of Dante’s hell
Where your children wait as hopes for a job fade
As with China John sells our future for free trade
John and George the same deal did agree
So you have the joy of more Yankee TV
For a price that just can’t be beat
When the shooting starts, a front row seat
As well as a health plan that is real fine
And if you should need it, a box of pine
The politician’s vision has spread far and wide
To the point where academics want torture applied
But only when the end it seems,
At least to someone, justifies the means
And when at home the politician goes about
Telling farmers there is no drought
The proof of this is there to be seen
Just come and look, my lawn is still green
A litany of promises written in sand
He journeys upon the election trail
To be leader of the party is the holy grail
Just one more term is his catch cry
Just one more, he says, before I die
His Disciple, Peter, sharpens his knife
After all, it’s just another political life
Two terms, you said, and the job was mine
So why are you now wasting my time
But the party, it says, comes first
So Peter must wait to slake his thirst
For the voters remember the GST rake
Peter’s tax of Grab, Steal and Take
If we try to run Abbott and Costello
It won’t matter how we coat it in honey
The people just won’t think it’s funny
And so Never Ever Johnny flies hither and yon
Georgies sheriff, the saviour of everyone
Except, perhaps, small children overboard
And those who find drugs in with their surfboard
Refugees receive his most tender attention
And are offered the best, five star, detention
While citizens overseas are deported
And this fact is never reported
If we should ever be found out
It was Labour’s fault, is what we will shout
After all it was they that wrote the act
We only mention it with great tact
Visitors to our shores we would never detain
But our hands are tied, we can’t refrain
We beg you, please, look at the good we do
Our neighbours love us, really it’s true
Timor to the north we saved from slaves toil
For the amazingly small sum of half their oil
A share in this bounty the poor might think
But first they must answer to centrelink
Made to jump hoops by Johnny’s minister
It all smacks of something far more sinister
On the streets they should be working
Lazy, he says, poor management and greedy too
Cut the wages of the poor, that’s what we’ll do
It’ll create jobs, just mark my words, you’ll see
The greatest thing for them is what it will be
And those whose crime is to be fifty years old
Will do their penance by working for the dole
Single mothers their children will have to sell
To appease Johnny’s vision of Dante’s hell
Where your children wait as hopes for a job fade
As with China John sells our future for free trade
John and George the same deal did agree
So you have the joy of more Yankee TV
For a price that just can’t be beat
When the shooting starts, a front row seat
As well as a health plan that is real fine
And if you should need it, a box of pine
The politician’s vision has spread far and wide
To the point where academics want torture applied
But only when the end it seems,
At least to someone, justifies the means
And when at home the politician goes about
Telling farmers there is no drought
The proof of this is there to be seen
Just come and look, my lawn is still green
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