Good evening readers. This week the theme has been White- which reminded me somehow of the UKIP election broadcasts and the BNP website I look at now and again. Now I know, hate isn't something we normally associate with white but, in good spirits, I've written a little poem to shine light on the issue.
Hope you enjoy,
S.
The Ballad of Nick and Nigel
Herr Farage and Monsieur Griffin met in a first class carriage
They shared croissants, drank red wine and discussed a peculiar marriage
For who are they to judge, they say, the colour of Britain's skin
Whilst both men feared being overheard and accused of racism.
So Nick and Nigel pondered over how to shut the doors
Whilst deep in their office bowels, the ghost of Enoch holds the floor
Enough's enough, he tells them, there are more than ever before
(Not one of the bright sparks realise they both work on foreign shores).
But putting that aside, they keenly swap offensive views
They argue how it could be wise to keep on side the Jews
We don't want to seem too far right, Nick reiterates to Nige
Then under the cover of night they get to work on hateful signs
Britain's doors are open and they're coming for your jobs!
There's millions lining up at Dover set to clean the bogs!
They're coming in their droves to claim YOUR seventy quid a week!
Did you see the dirty rats leaving bin bags on Benefits Street!
So Nick and Nigel set a plan, "Let's tell them we're like them"
(which is really like comparing Tory Boris to Red Ken)
"We'll drink pints in city pubs", Nige says, "stuff the rules and smoke at work".
Not realising half the country are laughing at the berk
Because little do these two men know, they're as loved as they're detested
We know they're riding slapshod towards a European election
But neither man is smart enough, they just turn up, speak and smile
They're choosing all their policies based just on what's in style
This week it'll be 'stop the gays, God's tears are bringing floods'
Next week a return to calling rooms of women filthy sluts
Then on through crime and fear until they get to the expenses
Where both men claim they're playing fair whilst looking over fences
But the hero of our poem, has been lurking out of view
He's been using on board wi-fi viewing websites of the two
Enough's enough! (He's on his feet) Have you idiots forgotten
These two are feeding from the fears that make society rotten.
The last claim Nick made was to take a jolly flight to Greece
To make a speech for Golden Dawn- what a way to keep the peace.
In his tax funded office he employs an old chief of the national front
no-one else applied so, jobs for the boys, he gave his son in law a punt!
The other one is just the same, he employs his German wife
Says no one else could do the job, it must be all the strife.
His manifesto just eight pages (and that includes a poster)
With the time he's not actually in the pub, you're as well voting in a toaster
By the time the Eurostar pulled in, news had spread with quite a fuss
The speak out hero disembarked and was told "You're one of us"
Go spread the word about these two, get all the people knowing
So Chaucer like, he thought it best to stick it in a poem.
Hope you enjoy,
S.
The Ballad of Nick and Nigel
Herr Farage and Monsieur Griffin met in a first class carriage
They shared croissants, drank red wine and discussed a peculiar marriage
For who are they to judge, they say, the colour of Britain's skin
Whilst both men feared being overheard and accused of racism.
So Nick and Nigel pondered over how to shut the doors
Whilst deep in their office bowels, the ghost of Enoch holds the floor
Enough's enough, he tells them, there are more than ever before
(Not one of the bright sparks realise they both work on foreign shores).
But putting that aside, they keenly swap offensive views
They argue how it could be wise to keep on side the Jews
We don't want to seem too far right, Nick reiterates to Nige
Then under the cover of night they get to work on hateful signs
Britain's doors are open and they're coming for your jobs!
There's millions lining up at Dover set to clean the bogs!
They're coming in their droves to claim YOUR seventy quid a week!
Did you see the dirty rats leaving bin bags on Benefits Street!
So Nick and Nigel set a plan, "Let's tell them we're like them"
(which is really like comparing Tory Boris to Red Ken)
"We'll drink pints in city pubs", Nige says, "stuff the rules and smoke at work".
Not realising half the country are laughing at the berk
Because little do these two men know, they're as loved as they're detested
We know they're riding slapshod towards a European election
But neither man is smart enough, they just turn up, speak and smile
They're choosing all their policies based just on what's in style
This week it'll be 'stop the gays, God's tears are bringing floods'
Next week a return to calling rooms of women filthy sluts
Then on through crime and fear until they get to the expenses
Where both men claim they're playing fair whilst looking over fences
But the hero of our poem, has been lurking out of view
He's been using on board wi-fi viewing websites of the two
Enough's enough! (He's on his feet) Have you idiots forgotten
These two are feeding from the fears that make society rotten.
The last claim Nick made was to take a jolly flight to Greece
To make a speech for Golden Dawn- what a way to keep the peace.
In his tax funded office he employs an old chief of the national front
no-one else applied so, jobs for the boys, he gave his son in law a punt!
The other one is just the same, he employs his German wife
Says no one else could do the job, it must be all the strife.
His manifesto just eight pages (and that includes a poster)
With the time he's not actually in the pub, you're as well voting in a toaster
By the time the Eurostar pulled in, news had spread with quite a fuss
The speak out hero disembarked and was told "You're one of us"
Go spread the word about these two, get all the people knowing
So Chaucer like, he thought it best to stick it in a poem.