Frau Merkel, the queen of EU,
In counting stars, wept: "Why so few?
Could not Britain's castles
Bear our immigrant hassles?
Ach Verdammt! Er, that is, boo-hoo.
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Frau Merkel, the queen of EU,
In counting stars, wept: "Why so few?
Could not Britain's castles
Bear our immigrant hassles?
Ach Verdammt! Er, that is, boo-hoo.
Said Merkle, mien gott! Das ist nict gut
Dee British ist givinck us der boot
But no matter
We'll get fatter
On account of vee haf all dee loot
Poor Merkel, she gets all the flak
From any old George, Jill or Mack.
She’s the Queen and they’re not,
But those Jacks have all got
A wild Ace when they vote to strike back.
There once was a gal named Doris
Who lived in Sherwood Forest
Got chased by a bear
But she didn't care
At least it wasn't mayor Boris
Sherwood Forest was where Robin’s rump
And Maid Marian’s met in a bump
As they danced in moonlight,
But at dawn woke with fright:
“Boris Johnson looks like Donald Trump.”
In Arthur's fair land live the British:
A hardy and hale folk but skittish.
A drop in pounds sterling
Sent stout hearts awhirling,
While tempers grew almost LitNettish.
A mayor we'll just call B.J.
Surrendered the towel one day.
It isn't quite clear
Who will take it from here,
Though it's possible Theresa May.
^BAH-hahahah!
There was an MP named Nigel Farage
Who went to Brussels with this message:
You folks are French
You've got no sense
Then left with his motley entourage
King Arthur had Merlin to blame
And Guinevere wanted the same
And Lancelot, too,
Needed someone, but who
Would the EU find worthy to name?
There once was a vast aristocracy
Propped up by a corrupt theocracy
But anarchy's for fools
And monarchy for tools
What's left but the people's democracy
The day that we watch the banks crash
We will look to the sky raining trash.
Then we’ll reach down for crumbs
With our fingers and thumbs
And get all that we want but no cash.
Have you heard of Prime Minister Abe
(Whose surname rhymes somewhat with "hobby")?
They say that this nabob
Is no honest Abe, Bob,
Which only only makes harder my jobby.
The Japanese are a grand bunch.
We thought they would come eat our lunch,
But they served us haiku
With raw sushi to chew
And they’re gone though some still want to munch.
There once was a chap from Japan
Who knew not how it all began
But bikes by Honda
Were not for Fonda
And neither was their fine minivan