(with apologies to Lewis Carroll..)
You are old, Father Tory, said the boy with severity
And your fingers have become very light
And yet you incessantly preach austerity
Do you think at this time it is right?
In my youth, Father Tory replied to the boy
I feared it might stifle growth
but now that I’m free of the hoi-polloi
I follow a more lucrative oath
You are old, said the youth, as I mentioned before
And have grown most uncommonly fat
Yet you sneak people in the back door
Pray, what is the reason for that?
In my youth, said the sage, as he shook out his wallet
I kept all my earnings quite simple
By the use of my contacts or whatever you call it
I’ve become quite an affluent symbol
You are old, said the youth, and your laws are too weak
For policing abuses of office
Yet you stand in the commons and continue to speak
Without revealing your profits
In my youth said his father I studied at Eton
And learned how corruption was rife
How Bullingdon chums will never be beaten
And it’s lasted me all through my life
You are old, said the youth, one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever
Yet you balance the economy on the end of your nose –
What made you so awfully clever?
I have borne all your questions, the lies you’re spreading
said his father – whose country d’you think this is?
Your constant inquiries are doing my head in
Be off and mind your own business!
jim clayton 