Brighton - where they invented camping, and the mince pies mince just so....
“Oh Daddy please buy me a tent”
“My humongous allowance is spent”
“There’s mammon to smash”
“And I need place to crash”
Then off to the demo. they went…
Take your time, next verse please, keep it reasonably clean…..
I have a Raccoon willie warmer for the best entry…Thaddeus has one too, but he’s still trying to grow into his…
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We’re going to show all those bankers,
and the oil barons with their big tankers
that a nice vegan stew
with mung bean wraps too
can have an effect on those wankers
Genius!
There once was a student called Fred,
Who hauled his tired butt out of bed.
With a heart full of hope
And his pants tied with rope
‘Least he stood by the words that he said!
They liked to mock Fred from their mansions
All the powerful, mighty and handsome,
but our Fred wasn’t daunted,
By fears he was haunted
of the bankers that hold us to ransom
We’re strong and we’re proud and we’re bold
We can win this (or so we’ve been told)
We’ll stay camped on our pitch
Till we bring down the rich
Mum, send more blankets, it’s cold!!
In Brighton we’re making a stand
In our tent city, one happy band,
But November’s quite chilly;
Getting cold would be silly
So we’re spending our nights at the Grand.
There once was a leftie called Ed
Whose career began looking quite dead
As a union stooge
(Their donations were HUGE)
He back-stabbed his brother, then lead
Yes, I know this doesn’t fit the theme.
I should learn to read the article more closely…
At Occupy Paris, the tricolour,
Is meant to be hung perpendicular,
But if what they want’ll
Be best horizontal,
They’ve never been very particular.
The French they care very much,
that no one the tricolour can touch,
So by ancient decree,
since Spain left the country,
the horizontal one’s owned by the Dutch.
I’ll do my best, but I’m no Gloria Smudd.
I apologise for the excessively scatalogical nature of this, but I’m finding it hard to forget the news story…
On a diet of lentil-based stew
There are things that a man’s gotta do,
So I went to the bog
To deposit a log
And – guess what – there’s a church in there too!
That’s very funny indeed!
We’re staying here camping until
We’ve defeated the capitalists’ mill,
‘Cos we’re never alone
With our Apple iPhone,
And that coffee from Starbucks is brill.
Sleeping out in December’s no ball
To make sure all the capitalists fall.
There’s so much at stake,
But the difference we’ll make
Is one fifth of one eighth of fuck-all.
They really can’t believe that their €uro,
In just 10 years is now close to zero.
For Merkel, Sarkozy,
Barroso, von Rumpy;
€urozone, there will be no tomorrow!
Limericks! And I missed ‘em. Late on parade but-
When you’re young you’re quite hot on ideals
But later in life you get real
When there’s brood to be fed
Common sense rules the head
For Kropotkin and Marx don’t serve meals
It’s easy to write us all off;
To sit, type up crap, and to scoff.
At the end of the fight,
You’ll see you’re alright
If you’ve kept your nose out of the trough.
If you’re off the coast with a friend
Don’t camp out! Don’t buck the trend;
Find a nice B&B
With a view of the sea
And just have a dirty weekend!
There once was a man from Nantucket,
“Protest,” he thought, “Well h*ll, f*ck it.”
Stayed out all the night, what a terrible plight,
But not once did he cave in and chuck it.
A protester who tried to adapt her
Ablutions ingeniously crapped her
Fragrant Deposit
In Wren’s greatest closet
To perfume the dean and the chapter.
Idealists camp-firing in Brighton
(whose MP’s a truly Green ‘right-one’)
soon went hot and cold
from the Puritan scold
“Put fires out, put thermals or tights on”.
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