Go on, then:
Explain to me, again,
You funny sucker,
How there isn’t any money.
I’m prepared to be amused…
Do tell that joke about the ruse
Wrapped in a riddle.
Go on: fiddle me that tune
That goes “impugn fa la di da”
And sing your moxie philodoxy
Of whose means you’re keen
To live within – I need a grin –
Please minstrel up that thing
Where Big Society’s anxieties
Are values and variety –
I’ll try to do the Robot
As you pluck the tired strings.
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