As Christmas approaches, casting its miserable shadow over the next couple of weeks, it is perhaps time to reflect that this will be the last Christmas before the next farce which we all know as the ‘general election’. Yes, in little more than five months, you will all be heading to some smelly scout hut, village hall or ‘community centre’ in order to waste your time placing a cross against whatever name takes your fancy, for another five years of bullshit, lies and scandal. Me? I’ll be staying at home, doing something far more productive – like scraping rabbit shit from the bottom of their litter tray. Much more fun, and you feel less, well, grubby afterwards.

However, as it is (probably) the end of that bunch of soulless liars we currently know as the ‘Liberal Democrats’, and bearing in mind the season we are now in, I pay homage to that disaster we now know as the ‘Coalition’ by re-releasing that Christmas favourite, ‘Fairytale of New York”. With the sincerest of apologies to one of the most brilliant artists this country has known in recent times, the late Kirsty MacColl, I give you “Fairytale of Westminster” sung by The Rogues. (The lead singer is Nick Clegg, with supporting vocals, in italics, by David Cameron. Make the  most of it, Nick; it’s the only lead role you will ever have). Happy Christmas you arses, let’s pray God it’s your last.

A Fairytale of Westminster

It’s Christmas Eve, Dave

In the Commons bar

Vince Cable said to me

“Won’t see another one!”

And then he sang the song

‘Where did it all go wrong?’

I turned my face away

Forgot I had two!

We haven’t got that long,

Next May Lib-Dems are gone

I’ve got this feeling,

This year the party’s through.

So Happy Christmas,

I love you, Davey,

I see a better time,

When I’m working for the EU.

We got cars big as bars,

Lined our pockets with gold,

We’ve seen off the students, the sick and the old,

When you first took my hand on a warm summer’s eve,

You promised a new post was waiting for me.

We were charming

We were witty

But our policies, shitty

For a while there were those

Who just swallowed our shite.

To the public, we lied

Chris Huhne banged up inside,

We pissed on the poor

And then danced through the night.

And the future’s looking fucking dire,

They’re all singing ‘Go away!’

And we will do, come the next election day.

You’re a wanker, a prat

You’re a shiny-faced twat,

You’re a holiday-junkie, I wish you were dead.

You’re a self-serving git, you’re a gold-plated shit

Happy Christmas you arse,

We’re a five year farce.

And the future’s looking fucking dire,

They’re all singing ‘Go away!’

And we will do, come the next election day.

“I could have been someone.”

You are! You’re Satan’s son.

“You made my dreams come true,

My tea boy, that was you.”

I’m glad I made your day,

Now all you want to say,

Is ‘Fuck off!, Go away”

I built my dreams around you.

And the future’s looking fucking dire,

They’re all singing ‘Go away!’

And we will do, come the next election day.

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