The New Room

Congratulations! You won the race to run the country
into the ground (even further).
The previous resident of Number 11’s been Trussed up by her own incompetence and sent packing.

The new room you’re moving into, well over a hundred Tories high, could do with a makeover, apparently.
Here’s thirty grand from the taxpayer to change the drapes.
Maybe spring for a decent cabinet instead?
The one you use most, next door at Number 10, isn’t fit for purpose.
Not now, and not when you used to sit in it and act on the whims
of your Johnson.

It was always going to be you, wasn’t it.
You just had to wait for the Penny to drop, for your Mordaunted opponent to concede.
You’re no stranger to dropping pennies though, albeit from the wealth of the nation.

But hey, it’s fine! (A £50 one if I remember correctly.)
Enjoy your success for a bit, teeter there at the top.
Ignore the calls from the electorate for a say, but know
you’re doing it out of fear.
An election tomorrow would lead to some great headlines.
Risky Soon-axed! would be my favourite.

So sit up there in the new room for now, the one my tax money decorated.
You know, and I know,
you’re only delaying your downfall.
Change *is* coming to sweep you out of office,
and Keir away your mistakes.