Here's one that John wrote last year about our prime miniscule:


JOHN HOWARD'S CHRISTMAS

John Warner - December 2005. Tune - Good King Wencessessesslauss [ don't know how to stop spelling it.]

Christmas presents filled the mind
Of wee johnny howard.
He would rob the workers blind,
To see the rich empowered.
With his tiny brain in gear,
Plans the lad was making,
Gifts to give his mates this year,
From all others taking.

Workers who don't toe the line,
Let the bosses sack them.
Johnny howard says it's fine,
They'll have laws to back them.
All unfair dismissal laws,
Tinsel wrapped with holly,
Scrapped in the employers cause,
Won't that gang be jolly.

"Here's your nasal grindstone mate,
Gift wrapped from your master.
Don't complain or curse your fate,
Kindly pedal faster."
Round and round and round she goes,
Wearing faces down sir,
Bloody, red and flat our nose,
Howard's nose is brown, sir.

"Bring me flesh and bring me wine,
Bring a barbecue sir.
Plenty for these mates of mine,
No, there's none for you sir.
Lots of debts and lots of lies,
Financial excision,
If you dare to criticise,
We call that sedition."

Once a year does Christmas come,
A subject for reflection,
Noses flat and spirits numb,
When's the next election?
One more gift to open folks,
And it's a back hander,
One of howard's little jokes,
A national gerrymander.

Red suit and a fluffy beard,
Don't suit our prime minister.
Howard's puny soul is geared,
To a dress more sinister.
Mask and jemmy, stripey vest,
Pitchfork, horns and tail sir,
But broad arrows would be best,
And ten years in jail sir.