The Hard Times of Old England
Now look to the future, how bleakly it bodes
The lorries are choking the ports and the roads
The fish they are rotting, down there in the holds,
Chorus: Sing 'Oh! the hard times of Old England,
In Old England very hard times!’
Our imports and exports are nipped in the bud,
They’re all choked in paper, bogged down in the mud
While all our great leaders are chewing their cud
Our dear old economy's bound for the red
When to distant parts the investors have fled
This whole strategy has a hole in the head
The people in charge should be tearing their hair,
The lorries are clamped and the shelves getting bare
The administration just isn't all there
We’ve got to be real, can’t reach for the moon
But we can’t take a dose if you don’t have a spoon
Because we are ruled by a brainless buffoon
Our great NHS is now feeling the strain
Staff sickness and overload... (Continues)