Nuts In May

Nuts in May

I never want to put my nuts in May.

No darling buds of rank decay.

I’m roasted, toasted, ballot-posted,

sex-it, exit, gratuity Brexit.

White cliffs, shite cliffs, pleasant land,

Pox doctored politicians on remand.

I don’t never want to put my nuts in May.

I never want to put my nuts in May,

Nor use my pole, it’s not cachet.

Not true, blue and high on glue,

snooper’s charter aimed at you.

Vicars, knickers, hymn book sniffers,

nasty parties, dole queue biffers.

I don’t never want to put my nuts in May.

Nuts in May? I’d sooner squeal,

unmask protesters, for solid newsreel.

Breezers, Theresas, solid geezers,

a few bad apples and lemon squeezers.

Policemen, greasemen and broken teeth,

use a student, wear a sheath.

I don’t never want to put my nuts in May.

I never want to put my nuts in May,

and contract zero hours, minimum pay.

Boris, porridge, zip wired prat,

Leadsome, wed some, high on khat.

Decapitation dodger, last hope finisher,

sister sinister, fit prime minister.

I don’t never want to put my nuts in May.