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Bullingdon Buddies – yet again

With David Cameron and George Osborne now resigned as MPs it was necessary once again  to revise the verses.

Bullingdon Buddies Revisited 2018

Old pals – a fraternity

Pals- Tory trinity

Cocks of the walk, talking the talk

Living on guff and hot air

We’re Dave, George and Boris and we’re seldom seen down the pub

Our schools were the tops and we all went to Ox-

Ford and all joined a “gentleman’s” club!

 

We’re Bullingdon Buddies

As blue as the blood is

That courses through all of our veins

We’re all well-connected well-bred and selected

For breeding’s much better than brains

We’ve all won life’s lottery

Top of the Tory tree

Taken together a nice little coterie

Dave, George, and Boris of course

The closest of comrades are we

We’re the toffs you can trust

We’re the true upper-crust

Yes the Bullingdon Buddies are we

 

My name’s David Cam’ron I used to be PM

But now I just sit in my shed

I sit and I sigh

At how life passed me by

And then write up my memoirs instead

How did it all go so wrong?

Goodbye, LORD Cameron

My Cosy Fan Toot has turned into Gotterdamm’rung

I’m Dave, Dave, they said I was brave

The nation’s whole future to gamble

Now the people have spoke

And the UK is broke

And I’ve left you the whole Brexit shambles

 

My name’s Georgie Osborne

The fellow that was born

To fix all that Socialist disease

My austerity polices Screwed loc’l authorities

Brought th’ N. H. S. to its knees

May showed me the door

Now I’m Chanc’llor no more

Still, my six other jobs keep the wolf from the door

Yes I’m George, George

No longer in charge

Of Britain’s dynamic economy

With my editor’s hat on

I still ensure that on

The Front Page it’s still George Osbornery

 

Oh crikey Oh lor’ Well you all know old Bor—

–is The last of the Bullingdon men

If Gove that wee oik

Hadn’t daggered my back

Then old Boris might now be PM

Now I lead the For’gn Office

Insult those foreign johnnies

“F…Off.. ice” I cry when I’m asked what my job is

I’m Boris – Bojo, the one with the Mojo

The last of the Bullingdon mob

When May gets her pasting I’ll be ready and waiting..

Let’s face it, it’s me or Rees-Mogg

We’re Bullingdon Buddies

As blue as the blood is

That courses through all of our veins

We’re all well-connected well-bred and selected

For breeding’s much better than brains

We’ve all won life’s lottery

Top of the Tory tree

Taken together a nice little coterie

Dave, George, and Boris of course

The closest of comrades are we

We’re the toffs you can trust

We’re the true upper-crust

Yes the Bullingdon Buddies are we

© Les Morss