Pissing In The Wind (with apologies to Elton John & David Bowie)

Goodbye Maggie Thatcher
From the young man in the twenty second row
of cardboard boxes in the street,
(We don’t exist you know)

It seems to me that most of life
is like pissing in the wind;
Never getting anywhere
until your lights are dimmed.
I should have liked to know you
Because of all you did
I would have put you back inside your box
Then super-glued the lid.

Ground control to Major Jon
Strings attached and glasses on
Have you checked out number ten?
Grey paint all over Maggies den.

It seems to me that politics
is like farting in the wind
The stench will always come right back
On those who did the sin.
I should have liked to meet you
And shake you warmly by the throat
But never mind you're on your bike
Now don’t forget your coat

Ground control to Clinton Bill
Monica has had her fill
What a sorry sordid tale
But its alright if you don’t inhale.

Goodbye Norma goodbye Jon
From New Labours’ Tory Blair
I’ve no ideas of my own
So why don’t we just share

It seems to me that politicians
are full of so much wind
It doesn’t matter what they say
cos no-one ever listens
I’m glad I didn’t know you all
Because I’d have been quite ill
What with Maggie and her lap dog Jon
Tory Blair and Cigar Bill.
©Rosewing