"Did Farage really skinny dip?" 
Well that's an image I'd rather skip! 
Instead, I'll marvel at his craftsmanship 
And try to write a playful quip… 
 
For, somehow, again, he's in the news 
He might as well, he's nothing to lose 
So, as some poor sod tries to fill his shoes 
He'll remind us of his own virtues 
  
He says he's leaving now to restore his health 
After creaming his wage from Europe's wealth 
He got his way.  He's pleased with himself 
And will I miss that smug-faced elf? 
  
No!  - Off he goes, and I won't cry 
There'll be no teardrops in my eye 
No solemn words, no heavy sigh 
Just a finger or two for my goodbye 
 
So, away he goes, towards the sunset 
He won't go far - on that I'll bet 
If you're a fan - don't be upset 
I doubt we've seen the last of him yet 
 
I'm not bitter, I've no time for hate 
But I won't miss his method of debate 
Will he sit and listen?  Quietly spectate? 
No, but he's sort-of gone... so let's celebrate 
  
So, did Farage really skinny dip? 
Again, a mental image we'd do well to skip 
Let's marvel, instead, at the statesmanship 
Of the modest ex-leader of the mighty UKIP