He's fallen to his death on his plastic toy sword. 

To number ten from playpen his final reward.

This graceless coup is no coup de grace. 

No comedy of euros,  a cabinet farce, 

an egotistic act from flabby flatulent arse.

He'll be all over telly soon 

our fatty blundering hot air buffoon.

Puffing Shakespeare and Latin.

Please down let that twat in. 

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