Barred by the Blogosphere from Bars and Pubs
Cameron picked up on this at PMQs as has the BBC and the Telegraph. Guido first saw it on the Devil's blog, he hat-tips the Reactionary Snob. The Wardman Wire has an amusingly po-faced audio report from the BBC. The Devil-designed A4 poster download is suitable for pub windows. The mandatory Facebook group is up here.Guido will give a prize of a copy of John McCain's new book Hard Call: Courageous Decisions by Inspiring People to anyone who comes up with a decent campaign sing along in a pub song. Entries in the comments...
60 comments:
He wasn't planned and now he's banned.
the poor motherless bastard
On the front pew without a clue -
and now he can't even get plastered!
because we don't like him very much
we kick away his only crutch.
the poor motherless bastard.
Give me a Double U,
Give me an Aay,
Give me an En.
Give me a Kay.
Give me an E.
Give me an ARGH.
String them all together, and what have you got Darling?
Oh he'll never drink a friendly pint again!
His social days are really at an end!
If he comes in throat-a-clutchin',
we'll throw him out through the escutcheon.
No! He'll never drink a friendly pint again!
To the tune of a well-known American western folk ballad:
Oh my Darling
Oh my Darling
Oh my Darling Chancellor
Furry eyebrows
Banned forever
Oh my Darling Chancellor
To the tune of Roll out the barrel...
Vote out New Labour
Lets vote out New Labour today
Vote out New Labour
They just tax us more each day
Vote out New Labour
Lets get rid of Darling and Brown
Vote out New Labour
Lets bring the bastards down
Is McCain's book the equivalent of Brown's book on Courage? Maybe it was even ghost written by the same author. In any event, no thanks - so I won't be making an entry...
There is a great Irish Drinking Song that I feel encapsulates perfectly what I think of Mr Darling and his chums.
It goes something like this...
'So bugger off, you bastards bugger off (Fuck you!)
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off (Fuck you!)
Like a herd of bloody swine who refuse to leave the trough
You’ll get no more this evening, so you bastards bugger off'
This isn't new. A coalition of pubs oop north have already banned the Snotgobbler in retaliation for the smoking ban.
http://www.halifaxcourier.co.uk/news/Gordon-Brown-barred-from-Elland.3814656.jp
It's a brilliant publicity stunt and I'm surprised more pubs haven't taken it up. Maybe they will.
Dream scenario: Every Labour minister banned from every pub in Britain (not that they use pubs much. It means mixing with dirty, smelly people called "the public").
to the tune of the irish rebel song "come out you black and tans"
no pint for badger man
he'll have to buy himself a can
shove his tax back up his brownstuff nasal passage
and when the blogosphere
put up those posters here and there
that darling never had another beer again
o the tune of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody...
Is this the real price?
Is this just fantasy?
Financial landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
And look at your buys and see.
I'm now a poor boy
High-yielding casualty
Because I bought it high, watched it blow
Rating high, value low
Any way the Fed goes
Doesn't really matter to me, to me
Mama - just killed my fund
Quoted CDO's instead
Pulled the trigger, now it's dead
Mama - I had just begun
These CDO's have blown it all away
Mama - oooh
I still wanna buy
I sometimes wish I'd never left Goldman at all.
I see a little silhouette of a Fed
Bernanke! Bernanke! Can you save the whole market?
Monolines and munis - very very frightening me!
Super senior, super senior
Super senior CDO - magnifico
I'm long of subprime, nobody loves me
He's long of subprime CDO fantasy
Spare the margin call you monstrous PB!
Easy come easy go, will you let me go?
Peloton! No - we will not let you go - let him go
Peloton! We will not let you go - let him go
Peloton! We will not let you go - let me go
Will not let you go - let me go (never)
Never let you go - let me go
Never let me go - ooo
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, -
Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go
S&P had the devil put aside for me
For me, for me, for me
-Guitar bridge-
So you think you can fund me and spit in my eye?
And then margin call me and leave me to die
Oh PB - can't do this to me PB
Just gotta get out - just gotta get right outta here
-Guitar solo-
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
No price really matters
No liquidity
Nothing really matters - no price really matters to me
-Instrumental ending-
Any way the Fed goes.
To Bogeyman at 4:42 PM -
Take the ban even further - bar all Labour Ministers from restaurants. That will REALLY hurt them (the MPs rather than the catering trade - NuLab have done enough to damage that already by screwing over the economy). Could be doing Ed Balls a favour though - great fat porker like him could do with going on a diet.
Me podgy? So What?
In a bar Darling drinks
Darling drinks Johnny Walker
till he runs up a bill he can't pay
He's drinking to the memory
of a bank in a northern grave
And it's GO Darling GO
where the bruises don't show
in the markets where the nervous get wrecked
And turn off your wireless
for two minutes silence
Because it's PMQs again and you can't bear to hear anymore...
I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills the chancellor says
Aint it mad.
And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me
Thats too bad
In my dreams I have a plan
If I shoot me a badger man
I wouldnt have to work at all, Id fool around then shoot them all..
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In Nulabours world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In nulabours world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
Its the taxmans mans world.
when Ah came up tae Embra Toon
Tae get away frae yon shite Brooon
But when my drouth i tried tae
droon
They said:
Darling where`s ma boozers!
Wi` yer taxes high
And yer wages low
All your savings ah will blow
And when you`ve gone tae the wall
Ye`ll go:
Darling where`s ma boozers!
Noo me and Gordy`s done some stuff
Like stoapin` drinkers ha`en a puff
But Ah don`t think that`s quite enough
Etc
You're bard.
5:21 Anon - set it on powerpoint with music and utube it.
Bar them from garage forecourts as well!
To the tune of the Wild Rover:
I've been your new Chancellor for not quite a year
But I’ve taxed all your money from whiskey and beer,
And now in the coffers there’s no gold in store
And I never will pay off the lenders no more.
chorus: And it's no beer ever,
No beer never no more,
For Labour’s game’s over
No voters no more.
I went to an ale-house I used to frequent
And I told the landlady my money was spent.
I asked her for credit, she answered me "nay
Such a custom as yours I could have any day."
And it's no beer ever,
No beer never no more,
For Labour’s game’s over
No voters no more.
So I taxed from her pocket ten sovereigns bright
And the landlady's eyes opened wide with deep fright.
She said "I have whiskey and wines of the best
But as for my money – you’ve taken the rest."
And it's no beer ever,
No beer never no more,
For Labour‘s game’s over
No voters no more.
I'll go home to my voters, confess what I've done
And I'll ask them to pardon their profligate son.
But they’ll kick out us scoundrels as oft times before
Sure I never will play the wild Chanc’llor no more.
And it's no beer ever,
No beer never no more,
For Labour‘s game’s over
No voters no more
Despite my deep thirst I still can’t buy a drop
“You’re barred” they all shout “You can’t even buy pop!”
So I’ll sup no more beer at the last Chanc'llor saloon
But please don’t blame me – the fault’s with that daft cunt called Broon!
And it's no beer ever,
No beer never no more,
For Labour‘s game’s over
No voters no more....
Marquee Mark (after trad.)
To the tune of Daisy, Daisy:
Darling, Darling, get rid of your budget do,
I'll be crazy if ever I do see you,
You can stuff your sodding budget,
Your borrowing you did fudge it,
You taxed my car,
And my cigarette tar,
And even my favourite brew!
Why not bar Broon from the remaining Arsenal games...
To "Whiskey in the Jar"
As I was looking over, the South-East of England,
I saw poor old pensioner, and his money he was counting,
I first produced my pencil, and then produced my paper,
I said “Stand or Deliver, or a bailiff he may take ya!”
Musha ring a dum a doo dumma da,
Cash for the Gordy-O!
Cash for the Gordy-O!
He’ll piss it up the wall-o.
anon 5:21 fantastic!!
to "old blue eyes" my way
and now the debt is near
and so i face financial curtails
and yet i say its good
the voters are getting it, all ways
but now the chickens have come home to roost.
to highlight PFI highways
but now we know how much bad youve done
you did it maos way !
PMQs review
cameron went on FSA report which when you think about it is quite damming , gordon did his useual non answer and fired back a few ping pong balls , how ever the non answer of "name one country that is putting up taxes" caused gruff scotishness to appear.The none answer to shopping basket questions was a disgrace , you just dont have any hope anything is true.
nick cleggs were better and highlights the growing backlog of the problem , which gordon will have to face.
Nb as he is not going to instruct BOE to intervene on house price stability then as greenspan told gordo "then its up to 40% house fall"
was gordo lying on embryology bill free vote ??
nice to see ian paisly raise a parallel issue.
so gordon is going to protect the union , that doesnt stack up with his lisbon referendum renage , perhaps the union he was refering to was the waste European one !!.
overall gordon did his useual dispatch box performance , an improvement on his first 4 months , but the none answer , the defensiveness still does little to make me believe that we dont have good governance .
as for darling notably quiet , city busness meetings now met with sceptiscism , a few saying he has been cautious , but most now thinking he and gordon have welcomed in a very difficult era , the edges of which the voters are just begining to feel .
the red despot spotter isnt sure about barring them , he thinks behind jail bars would be the only acceptable justice.
Anonymous @ 5.21pm...
We have a winner...too much time on your hands but very funny indeed!
guido evening standard has somthing on GLA offices all over the world , any idea how much slaries , who and who gets the rents ??
Great idea. But why not extend it? Why not ban every Labour MP from every pub?
Might make the gutless creatures think a bit before they do the bidding of Gordon Brown, Prime Minister.
Or as the anagram of his name would have it, 'Minor Error, Snot-Binged Wimp.'
darling,
let me tell you how it will be.
I don't wish to sound crude alistair but you are gordon's bitch. you do whatever he tells you to do. even the really dirty stuff like doubling poor peoples' income tax liability.
but now that gordon has fucked you and got what he wanted, he doesn't need you anymore. politically speaking alistair, you are gordon's used wank rag.
not as clever as you thought you were, eh?
you dopey cunt.
let this be a lesson to everyone who works with gordon. he is a shifty character who uses people to take the blame for his own failures and to avoid his own responsibilities. he has an infantile nature and cannot be trusted.
To the tune of "Swing low, sweet chariot"
You're banned, oh chancellor,
Turn around and bugger off home,
You're banned, oh chancellor,
Turn around and bugger off home.
Knees up Mother Brown!
Knees up Mother Brown!
Under the table you must go
Ee-i-ee-i-ee-i-oh!
If I catch you Darling,
I'll saw your legs right off,
Knees up! Knees Up!
Don't get the breeze up,
Knees up Mother Brown!
If Darling is banned so should Brown!
What about a poster banning Brown!
We could have Brown Free Towns and Cities. Shopping Malls would be Brown Free.
Guido get some car stickers done immediately
BROWN BANNED FROM HOLDING ANY OFFICE!
So Guido and friends thought they would get at Darling by inflicting the worst punishment they could think off. Says more abour Guido and friends than Darling I'm afraid. So weak!
Anonymous @ 5:21
What a coincidence! Someone posted exactly the same on the Telegraph blog last week:
http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/business/marketforces/march2008/cdofantasy.htm
Don't see the point in barring the fucker or any other Labour MP for that matter from pubs. They don't live on the same planet as us and I doubt they'd lower themselves to share a pint with the common taxpaying public. The fuckers! Hang them all and their EU/common purpose masters.
Jones 10.15
Might as well use those words for the 'Swing Low etc' tune.
English Rugby have no use for it.
Gloating Welshman
Whats odd is that he's barred and NOT Brown. I mean I hate Darling but I don't think he should be burned at the stake just yet. Call me a liberal if you must.
He’s Grey,
Loves Brown,
And can’t afford his round,
Al-i-stair, al-i-stair...
You're all in a spin
Move over Darling
Your tax is a sin
Move over Darling
You are a blight
But we're gonna fight you somehow
We'll sack you now
You're way out of touch
Move over Darling
We hate you so much
Move over Darling
That ice in your eyes is no big surprise any more
Cos we're fooled no more!
The way you lie,
Has you waving
your conscience bye-bye
We know you're a cunning thing
But next election you're beat,
You're dead on your feet!
We yearn to be pissed
Move over Darling
Your tax must desist
Move over Darling
You've captured our pints,
Our country is no longer free
What insanity!
It's gonna be great
It's gonna be fine
We're gonna sack you in 2009
Don't bother to plead
Don't bother to whine
Cos we want you out
You traitorous swine
You've stolen our pints
You've stolen our country too
SO WE'RE SACKING YOU!!
Spotted this elsewhere:
"Frankly my Darling I don't give a Dram!"
Sounds like Gordon's got form for drinking out public houses:
The Old Dun Cow
Some friends and I in a public house
Was playing a game of chance one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"
And there was Brown upside down
Lappin'' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.
"Oh well," says Brown, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
If the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we went on down after good old Brown
The booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.
Then, Smith walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Brown, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer."
Then there came from the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!"
And then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum
Till we were bleary-eyed.
Later that night, when the fire was out
We came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!"
thomas the tank engine cont
"the london branch"
it was a beastly day at central station on sodor , the driech director was in a foul mood having just had to take some questions.the logistic manger malloch brown had been giving the driech director advice , but was shitting it on any questions on Tibet.
the driech director went to see KEN who ran the london branch of the network.KEN was a soviet era combustion engine who was running on a special fuel known as tax payers highland malt. the driech director had promised KEN continuation of the london franchise , but the people were wondering if the more eco friendly tree loving BORIS was a better bet.
BORIS had been telling people about how much the little known and private use GLA sidings and offices were costing them. KEN had errupted loads of smoke and consumed a lot of tax payers malt in a fit of rage. KEN had only just got rid of money shunt buddy lee jasper to try and show he was clean , so the last thing he needed was BORIS finding any more funding shit going on.
the driech director was shitting it also, as it looked like another branch of the british council , which had forced the exposure of the kinochio family franchise communist proganda delivery service which had been making a few quid .
"next episode thomas thinks dr tanya is specters witch assasin eva clebb off from russia with love"
Money, not a dime
you spend it carefully, but still they squander all the pie.
Money, don't fly
Invest it save it, but still you work until you die.
Money, you must pay,
To the council scum and the mortgage mafia, toooday
But if you beg for some more time
It no surprising they take the keys away.
Awaay awaaay Awaaaahaaaay awaaay
is it worth the aggrivation to find yourself a job when there's nothing worth working for?
they took our fags now our booze.. and we sing:
make poverty history, cheaper drugs now!
shameless lift, hard fall down . .
all we live for is cigarettes & alcohol, but my darling,
Stop. .
dont take us on we are king .
Anon 5:21pm - better 'n the original
Mitch 6.45pm - Silver medal
Slightly off topic - with The Apprentice starting again last night, what scope might there be for a video spoof for You Tube that interlinks clips of solemn looking Cabinet ministers with clips of Sir Alan Sugar ranting and raving? The image of Brown, Darling and all the rest being told "You're fired" would be a joy to behold.
"Tory Boy Never Grow Up"
You come on this blog and act all disdainful...so why visit?
You know - in your crusty heart - that the right have got all the best jokes and all the right answers. You know Labour are a busted flush. In your wake for New labour why don't you submit a singalong to Guido's competition.
Too fuckin' stupid?
Oh how sweet, what a Darling little competition. Perhaps Snotgobbler could pick the winner, or alternatively the winning entry.
Off topic, but I can't think of a better place to post it:
The Curse of Broon strikes again!
Hansard, 19 Mar 2008 : Column 928
“And in Iraq, where we have already brought electricity and water supplies to more than 1 million citizens, we are stepping up our contribution to the work of long-term economic reconstruction by supporting the Basra development commission, led for the British by the businessman, Michael Wareing, who is doing an excellent job.”
25th March:
Basra in chaos as Iraqi Government forces move in to remove Sadrist loyalists. All visits by Westerners are halted, and reconstruction work ceases indefinitely.
I saw the poster on the night that I passed by the pub window
I saw the flickering shadow of smokers stood outside
He was the taxman
As he robbed me I watched and went out of my mind
My my my M'Darling
Why why why M'Darling
I could see, that Chancellor was no good for me
But I was lost like a slave that no man could free
At break of day when my throat felt like hay I was waiting
I crossed the street to the pub and He opened the door
He stood there laughing
I felt the knife in my hand and he laughed no more
My my my M'Darling
Die die die M'Darling
So before they come to break down the door
Forgive me M'Darling I just couldn't take any more
Forgive me NuLabour we just couldn't take any more
The problem is all inside our heads,
He said to me:
I believe that we will see that
if we take it logically
We all need help in our struggle
to be free
There must be
50 ways to ban a chancellor
We just hide down the back, Jack
Don't give him the plan, Stan
We don't need the ol'boy, Roy
Just listen to me,
Bung him back on the bus, Gus
We don't need to discuss much
Don't give him the key, Lee
And then we'll be free.
He said: it grieves me so
that we are all pain
There must be something we can do
to make him feel the same
We said: we're with you there
so will you please explain
About the fifty ways?
He said: why don’t we all just
drink on it tonight
And I believe that in the morning
we'll all agree I'm right
And then he poured another drink
you know - he probably is right
There must be fifty ways
To ban a chancellor
chorus
That's enough fucking boring songs, Ed!
Gordon called when he gave the word,
And he said: "I suppose you've heard -
About Alis".
When I rushed to the window,
And I looked outside,
And I could hardly believe my eyes -
As a removal van rolled up
Outside number eleven...
And I know just why he's leaving,
And where he's gonna go:
He wouldn’t stop his thieving
And he didn't want to know,
'Cos for eleven long years
We've been paying more tax to Alis.
Eleven long years just paying more and more,
Watching all our money get blown my him and his mate Gor,
Now he’s taxing our booze and that’s the last straw, for Alis...
Three pence more on a pint
And more on a dram,
We threw all our battles,
Out of the pram,
Straight at Alis.
If he walks through the door,
Just tell him he’s barred,
We’ve had enough and we’ve marked his card,
As a removal van pulls slowly
Out of Downing Street.
And I know just why he's leaving
And where he's gonna go:
He wouldn’t stop his thieving
And he didn't want to know,
'Cos for eleven long years
We've been paying more tax to Alis.
Eleven long years just paying more and more,
Watching all our money get blown my him and his mate Gor,
Now he’s taxing our booze and that’s the last straw, for Alis...
And Gordon called back and asked how I felt,
And he said: "I know how to help -
Get rid of Alis".
I said: "Now Alis is gone,
But you’re still here,
You’ve been taxing me
For eleven long years.
It’s about time that you disappeared.”
And I know just why he's leaving
And where he's gonna go:
He wouldn’t stop his thieving
And he didn't want to know,
'Cos for eleven long years
We've been paying more tax to Alis.
Eleven long years just paying more and more,
Watching all our money get blown my him and his mate Gor,
Now he’s taxing our booze and that’s the last straw, for Alis...
But he’s taxing our booze and that’s the last straw, for Alis...
Now he’s taxing our booze and that’s the last straw, for Alis...
Dear Mr Darling
Dear Mr Darliing
You're not welcome here
We're fed up
Cos you put up our beer
Very Sorry dear darling
You are banned from here
Very sorry dear Darling
For you putting up our beer
Not impressed by yer new budget
And your consistent efforts
To make our life a sober bore
Why don't you shave your eyebrows
So you can see clear
That you've made a mistake
Putting up our beer
You're banned, You're not welcome
Stay outta my pub
Cause you've spoilt
Something that we love
We'll take a drink
Hoping for your demise
We're fed up
with being victimised
Very Sorry dear darling
You are banned from here
Very sorry dear Darling
For you putting up our beer
Very Sorry dear darling
You are banned from here
Very sorry dear Darling
Making your way as chancellor today takes everything you've got,
robbing some dough from innocent drinkers sure would help a lot,
wouldn't you like to get away (with it)?
sometimes you want to go
where nobody knows your name
and they're always glad you came
you don't wanna see face on the sign
that tells you that you're barred
you wanna be where nobody knows your name
To the tune of 'Oh my Darling, Clementine'.
In the bars and public houses,
Just before the bell for time,
We'll sit back and bolt the door shut,
And sing of Darlings crime
Oh my Darling, Oh my Darling,
Oh my Darling, what a crime,
You are barred and done forever,
Dreadful sorry, tho' what a crime.
Light he was on gold n' silver,
looking for that extra dime,
he saw the drinkers, thought 'they're stinkers',
So he robbed them - 'what a crime!'
Oh my Darling, Oh my Darling,
Oh my Darling, what a crime,
You are barred and done forever,
Dreadful sorry, tho' what a crime.
Now the drinkers, being thinkers,
Can see that its a crime,
So they barred him from his local,
he's a devious, thieving swine.
Refrain etc...
Sing to the tune of The Jam's , Going Underground.
Some people might say I'm a stupid cunt,
But I'm quite happy with the insults that I got
People might say I should strive for more,
But I'm so happy to be a bum boy.
Something's happening here today,
I go banned from the pub and the queens parade,
I'm so happy that you're a whore,
You want more money - let's rise taxes some more
To buy nuclear reactors from the French of course
And the public gets all the cunts it got,
But I'm quite happy to eat all my snot,
I'm going underground (going underground)
Where the press don't see what I'm fumbling for
Going underground (going underground)
Where the rent boys play and hearts a pounding, same tomorrow?
I vow to thee, my country,
All earthly things above,
In Northern Rock and Stamp Duty,
And even in the pub.
A pub that asks no questions,
A pub that pays the price,
Where the landlord is struggling,
Under taxes like a vice.
A pub that's not a wine bar,
A pub that serves real ale,
That's laboured under Labour
On a monumental scale.
But there's another country,
I've heard of long ago,
Where the tax is on White Lightning,
But rarely on Merlot.
The PM has a mandate,
The Chancellor has one too,
And when they've made a promise,
They'll always keep it true.
We may well like a tipple,
We like a damn good smoke,
But bugger Brown and Darling,
Their Government's a joke.
just to let everyone know that both mr Alistair Darling and mr Gordon Brown are banned from Eddies Bar at both of this years pickering steam fairs.
i wouldnt like to be them if they turn up.
linch mob anybody?
Drink! Drink! Drink!
To Darling's dismay when he's banned from all pubs in our land
Drink! Drink! Drink!
To the day when we're no longer gripped by nulab's iron hand
Drink! Drink!
Let the toast start!
Drink! Drink!
Gladden our hearts
Drink! Drink! Drink!
To the day when nulabour departs!
Drink! Drink! Drink!
To Broon's dismay when he's finally banged up with Blair
Drink! Drink! Drink!
To the day when Broon and nulabour are no longer there!
Drink! Drink!
Let the toast start!
Drink! Drink!
People take heart
Drink! Drink! Drink!
To the day when nulabour departs!
A song from "Oliver" seems appropriate, given that Mr. Bean is to be the new Fagin (although I can't imagine Brown/Fagin having much use for hankies).
There's a little ditty
They're singing in the City
Especially with the tax on their gin and their beer.
Gordon Brown's a cretin
And Darling he's a-frettin'
He'll take all the blame and be out on his ear.
Oompah-pah, Oompah-pah
That's how it goes.
Oompah-pah, Oompah-pah
Brown picks his nose.
The economy's busted and banks may foreclose
But Brown just goes
Oompah-pah.
I'm Darling the nerd, that's me
Chancellor - you'll have heard of me...
These eyebrows I'm hiding beneath
Al, the Finance minister
Yet they call me Al sinister
And I'm desperate for bloody relief
I walk down the Strand with my tax bag in hand
Then I walk down again with it hid
Though I try to disguise the despair in my eyes
With eyebrows like two funeral wreaths
I've no airs and graces and know where me place is
But I'm without booze so long now
I've forgotten where my face is
....Oh, God!....
I'm Al, Al, can I be your pal?
I'm such a nice bloke underneath.
But everyone hates me from HM to Rose West, you see
They call me Minister Al sinister from Leith!
I'm Minister Al Sinister,
Booze tax I administer
I take off up west for a sup
I stroll behind dark glasses
Shit, recognised - what a farce this is
How long before my game is up?
Peer of Lords'n'Ladies
Yet feel I'm in Hades
Champagne in the Burlington?
Nope, I'm kicked out again
No pub will admit me
They'll soon have to commit me
And Paxman keeps angrily barring his teeth at me
Cos I'm the sinister Minister from Leith
Ex-Minister to the Dft
I smile unconvincingly
While Stansted's extending me
Jeer upon jeer...whenever I appear
My wife's done a flit on me
Cabinet colleagues, they just sit on me
Please, please! Harrass me no more!
Or the eyebrows I'm hiding beneath
Please show some respect for
Minister Al Sinister from Leith
I'm Minister Al Sinister
Creeping along Temple Bar
Shocked to find Banksy's grafittied my car with:
'Minister Al sinister is BARRED from every pub and bar'
Yet I never swank it
Pride, I never drank it
As I sleep on this door step with 'The Mail' for a blanket...
This hat full of coins by my side
I'm the minister who is banned nationwide!
Anon @ 5:21 - it was funnier in last week's Torygraph, but good try.
I note that Cameron drinks in all the right pubs these days!
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