That day of wrath, the end of May,
When the vile hag is dragged away,
What power shall be the Tories’ stay,
How shall they meet that fearful day?
When, vanishing into a black hole,
They hit the bottom of the poll,
When louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the folk’s clamour for her head …
O, on that day, that glorious day,
Let us throw off the bullies’ sway
And send the parties’ foul array
Out of our land, and far away.
Soon we shall hear May’s funeral knell,
As she falls screaming into hell.
A cheap stone bears her epitaph,
To raise a coarse sardonic laugh:
Here lie the bones of Mrs May,
Who gave her country’s soul away.
Stranger, there’s no cause to stay,
Piss on her and go your way.
Copyright © Tachybaptus 2019
The Goodnight Vienna Audio file