Bloody hell, there’s a few grey whiskers that weren’t there last November,
Back in the good old days of opposition, the happiest days that I can remember.
It all started so beautifully, the day I became PM, they cheered me, they loved me, they cried,
The media lauded me like a prodigal son, they lapped up everything I tried.
It was so easy then, so symbolic & shallow; Kyoto, Sorry, Iraq,
And we’d inherited such a great economy, even ‘we’ couldn’t f&*k it up!
Just say the right things and smile and whack a new tax on luxury cars and bourbon & cokes,
With the great economy we’d been handed on a platter, it was all platitudes, back-slaps and jokes.
After 100 days I presented our report card, a glossy endorsement of our so-called achievements,
But after 200 days it’s all gone pear-shaped, and the report card reads like a bereavement.
I need to scam more money from big business, so I’ll introduce an Emissions Trading Scheme,
I must say thank God for the ‘Climate Change’ fanatics, it’s the biggest scam I’ve ever seen!
But inflation’s gone up, unemployment’s on the rise, consumer confidence completely gone,
Little surprise really when you leave the economy in the hands of that moron Swan.
So the pressure’s on, they’re onto me, bringing an end to my façade, my procession,
I’m having trouble shaving, my hand is shaking…OUCH…is that a bloody recession?!
“Get that moron on the phone”.
“Listen here insignificant man from down under,
You play dumb and pretend it’s someone else’s blunder,
But your lying games are failin’,
Leaking falsehoods to ‘The Australian’,
This behaviour will send you quickly asunder”
“I could tell you were a wanker when you saluted,
When you speak the room is immediately polluted,
With the bullshit that you speak,
You’re a weak meek freaky geek,
With you in charge, Australia is rooted.”
“Your ego has no limit since you’ve been empowered,
But you’re nothing more than an untruthful lying coward,
You make it up as you go along,
Getting every decision wrong,
What were they thinking when they voted out John Howard”?
“So as I near the final months of my reign,
Promise me you’ll never speak to me again,
Even if you feel you must,
You’re a man I cannot trust,
I don’t need the lies, the stress or the pain.”
“When you come here for the G20 meeting,
Any contact with you I’ll ensure is but fleeting,
And you’ll sit in the dark, riding pillion,
With some smelly insignificant Brazilian,
As we speak I’m just putting the final touches to the seating.”
“How dare you leak details of a private conversation,
Such treachery causes me much frustration,
You speak untruths & bull carte blanche,
So like the old bulls on my ranch,
I’m recommending your immediate castration”.