When Mr Brown went off to Downing Street

He never thought he’d come home looking glum

But now he’s found that power ain’t so sweet

When you need to be ready with your gun

The arrows from outrageous Cameron

The daggers in the back from backbenchers

He now sees why Blair aged during those ten

Excruciatingly long servile years.

But Gordon, mate, it ain’t how it appears

The banks that you bailed out all think you’re great

The Tories like you cos you’re on the run

The only losers are the poor voters

Who elected Labour (not you) to treat

Them kindly. Oh, here comes an election…