King Henry Vth upon 'difficult times'.

Once more to heal a breach dear friends, once more

To rid this defecit the lager-boys do want our English pounds!

In peace they nothing gave to deserve the working man

Save scabby scraps and party platitudes:

But now, with wine-sot bankers blast within our ears,

The #posh do imitate the bludgeon of the overseer.

Warping truth and wefting with their words

Confounding logic with etonian guile.

Then, with straightened tie and lifted nose,

Let bonus through their constraints of fair day

As champaign falling lets their glass o’erflow.

And, jubilant as cock crows every morn

Or as the fatted pigs do wallow in their muddy swill,

They play carefree within their golden mile.

Now, set your arse and stretch your lugholes wide,

Hold hard your brew and stay your crispcrunch jaw,

To learn your brother English public servants fate

Whose life to spill to benefit too their dukish friends!

You that, like so many reasonable men

Who in these parts do stand for your beliefs

Did buy your round with “Nothing to be done”;

Dishonour not your children, now accept

That times have changed from those your fathers knew

And to mirror days of interest and free speech

Teach them how to shout.

So we, good tipplers; whose drink were brewed in England,

Show them all the bitters of your place; let us swear

That pints are all worth pulling: which I doubt not;

For there be none of us so crass

That has but Stella Artois in his glass!

I see you set like greygounds in the slips

Notes and coin within your hardy palms. I’m nearly done –

So, strain your sinews, grab your pint pots firm

Cry, “Good for CAMRA, scratchings and Real Ale!”