The Labour Leader Race - in song

With apologies to Val Doonican (I know, I know, but sometimes these things just happen, OK?).



Now New Labour had a leader who wasn’t much admired,
When they lost the election he had to be retired;
They obviously needed someone to take his place,
And so the curtain rises on the Labour leader race.
Shyly, slyly, first comes David Miliband,
“If no one else runs, I’ve got it in the bag”.
The forthright Blairite doesn’t have it all in hand,
His brother makes a challenge and the starter drops his flag.

So there’s Diane Abbott, Ed and David Miliband
Burnham, McDonnell and don’t forget Ed Balls
Lined up in the starting gate while all of us anticipate
The backbiting and bitching till the last one falls.
They’re in the public eye again, hoping we’re espying 'em
Winking, blinking and jostling for place,
No hope of dispersing ‘em though everybody’s cursing ‘em;
The runners in the forthcoming Labour leader Race.

Now Balls he is a tough guy, never known to flinch,
And neither of the Milibands is going to give an inch;
McDonnell, he’s the sort who would grab you round the throat
And shake you like he did the Mace to try and get your vote,
Andy Burnham’s lined up with the rest of 'em,
Please forget he left some papers on a train!
Meanwhile Diane thinks that she’s the best of 'em -
Surely no one wants a middle-aged white male again!

So there’s Diane Abbott, Ed and David Miliband
Burnham, McDonnell and don’t forget Ed Balls,
All ready to debate, to bluster and pontificate
In Parliament and studios and draughty halls;
It makes them all feel liverish to know they’ve lost their privilege
Liberals and Tories are sitting in their place;
European unity, care in the community,
All to be debated in the Labour leader race.


A party with no leader, a cabinet with a grudge,
When Gordon faced the cliff edge, who was it gave the nudge?
Gone is any semblance of Party unity;
Like ferrets in a sack all they can do is disagree.
Close advisors, spin and cod psychology,
Each one worked up, ready for the fight,
Fired up, wired up, and without apology
Constituents go hang while they're campaigning day and night.

So there’s Diane Abbott, Ed and David Miliband
Burnham, McDonnell and don’t forget Ed Balls,
There’s no use in complaining, they’re occupied campaigning;
All else falls by the wayside when ambition calls,
But look! Another rider, a total rank outsider,
Is scheming, dreaming of the winning place;
The bookmakers will rub their eyes at the Labour Party's suicide
The day that Glenys Kinnock wins the Labour leader race.