If You Can’t Beat ‘Em, Cheat ‘Em

We’re trying a coup but our tactics were busted
​The more we manoevre, the more they’re disgusted
The rules can be broken and figures adjusted
The members?! There’s no way those oiks can be trusted.

We need a new leader, more Theresa than May
But the bloody trade unions won’t do what we say
We can’t have a vote cos they’ll vote the wrong way
So we’ll write for The Sun and we’ll go and make hay

We hoped we’d be boosted by Tory defectors
To outvote the reds in our Party’s electors
We’re combing the list with compliance inspectors
But we keep getting caught by the bullshit detectors

We’ll wheel in some Lords and some rich aristocracy
Bring back the rule of the Labour bureaucracy
The Party works better with moderate autocracy
We’re saving the day in the name of democracy

This membership rise is a terrible bore
We’ll round up the reds and we’ll show them the door
Call them “metropolitan elitists”, sit back and guffaw
(Though someone said some bits of London are poor)

We’re relying on hoping that no-one remembers
The war in Iraq or the vote last September
We’ll burn down our Party and rake through the embers
But the last thing we’ll do is to trust our own members.



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