I always liked candy floss, as a child;
the smell, the taste, drove me wild.
The fair, the shows, exciting rides
seemed, to a child the best of life.
But now I view this stuff in a different light;
the blonde Billy Bunter, talking lots of shite.
Shite that demeans this country of mine;
takes it back to the days of a darker time
A time when the working man had no rights;
work or starve, and they’d have to fight,
for a token that let them earn a penny,
to take food home to feed the family.
I’ve waited so long to see the day,
when the candy floss twat, began to sway.
But I see a light, although very dim,
and I hear the cry-sink or swim.
With baited breath I patiently wait,
to hear he’s imploded over party gate.
The damage he’s caused is beyond belief;
he’s laughed in the face of others’ grief.
He’ll be going soon, the pundits say,
maybe before the end of May.
But there’s two years left of this cursed term;
they’ll have another bastard to do more harm.
2024 is the year that we get to decide,
if the tories continue to scoff and deride
the people who deserve much better than this.
I hope they get the proverbial ‘Glasgow kiss’
Thinking of toasted candy floss makes me smile,
and politically I haven’t done that for a while
Schadenfreude might not be far away;
Billy Bunter evicted and cast away.
His children will live out his legacy-
a liar, a cheat and ‘it’s all about me.’
When he’s gone, I will dance and rejoice at his fate.
He’s a cunt, he’s a tube, an entitled reprobate.