Tuesday, 3 July 2012
The Road to London
Sic a parcel, aye rogues you are and stubbornly remain
neo Englander, new Labour, just about accepted by the middle
as long as principles deeply held are dropped as readily as R's.
Denying the wealth of nations, well your very own at least
you propagate your stories of dependence and ineptitude
mouthing too wee and too poor and too stupid with equal appetite.
Your Southerly migrations of body and mind are powered by gravespinning
the genesis of your parliamentary life soon followed by an exodus
both Scotland and socialism becoming far and fearful places.
Then your bitter leavings insinuate onto Holyrood front benches
those badly-tempered yarddogs growling on their long London leash
cynically pulling the chain on neebours, lest their own be Yanked.
Your chromatic careers spin red tie to blue then red hide to green
all spent hacking benefits from those on colder benches than your own
no longer happy to be Tamson's bairns, you become our uncle Tams.