A timely reworking from Tom Scott of ‘While shepherds watched their flocks by night’ for the secular, Brexiter age.
While hedge funds shorted stocks by night
And bet against the pound,
A WhatsApp from BoJo came down,
And glory shone around.
“Fear not,” said he, for mighty dread
Had seized their troubled mind;
“Glad tidings of No Deal I bring
To you and all your kind.”
“For you,” proclaimed the lifelong liar,
“Your payday now is near!
The Brexit that you all desire
Arrives with the New Year!
The farms will fail, the poor will starve,
But for the stinking rich
The profits will be up there with
Roman Abramovich.”
Thus spake the PM, and forthwith
Appeared a gloating throng
Of tabloids praising him, who thus
Addressed their joyful song:
“All glory be to the PM
And on the earth be sleaze!
Let grift by greedy, corrupt men
Begin and never cease!”
