A Fairytale of New York (and elsewhere)

I thought I’d closed the Tavern doors for good but sometimes the Muse strikes and resistance is futile.

(With apologies to fans of the original…)

“It’s New Year’s Eve, babe, 

In a Manhattan flat

Lord Alli’s lent me, so why not come along?

He says it isn’t wrong;

‘Just put the figures through

Two-fifty a night we’ll say, Ange, just ‘cos it’s you.’

Aren’t we the lucky ones?

We’ll never lack for funds

As long as Lord Alli is here for me and you,

So here’s to freebies

New York holidays,

The best designers; he’ll make our dreams come true.

“We’ve fine jackets and scarves

When the weather gets cold;

Who cares about WFA for the old?

We can sit in the front row 

Among VIPs,

And then claim it’s self-sacrifice rather than sleaze.

It’s our cultural duty!

Go see Taylor’s booty,

Take the kids to the footie - the donors will pay.

Give Downing Street passes

In exchange for free glasses

Then cover our arses and go on our way.”

But suddenly the voters know

And say it’s not fair play;

Will they rat each other out to get away?

“You're a leech!” “You're a skunk!”

“Were you clueless or drunk

That you never once said ‘All this might be misread’?”

“You scumbag! “You maggot!

If you want it you’ll blag it,

Kiss a millionaire’s arse to come up with the brass.”

Or, though people hate hypocrisy 

And wish they’d go away,

Will they keep on selling out day after day?