UK GIN DEPENDENCE PARTY – ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER

We’re not fascists, are we, dear?
Bring that bottle over here.
Now. Where was I? Enoch Powell?
Sod this irritable bowel!
Do you play goff? Come down the club.
Just a snifter, lovely grub……
What, no blazer? Borrow mine.
Chin chin. Maggie, ‘79!

Now. Where was I? Nigel Farage?
Dear! More bottles in the garage….
Really don’t want to disparage
But he should pronounce it Farridge.
Agincourt and Waterloo
Showed those Frenchies what to do
Entente Cordiale – bloody shame.
Wonder how he got that name?

Now. Where was I? Edward Heath?
Awful man with awful teeth.
He’s the one who started this
Led us into the abyss.
It would have been so much eashier
To have teamed up with Rhodesia.
Bloody Poles. This gin is strong!
Oh, it’s vodka. Got that wrong…..

Now, where was I? Fascists? No.
I fought them, I’ll have you know.
Well, I nearly did – too young.
Something’s happening to my tongue!
Bloody Poles. I need a kip.
Do have one more. Just a nip….
Upstairs, ere my forces fail.
Eileen, where’s the Daily Mail?

One last parting shot, young man:
Country’s going down the pan.
Anyone with half a brain
Is selling up and orf to Spain.
Part of that’s in Europe, true –
But not the bit WE’RE going to.
Bloody Poles. My poor old head…..
See yourself out. Orf to bed!