The harrowing hustings,

I’m going to the hustings,

And I’m busting to be thrusting

My party’s ideas

Into your ear.

I will praise the perfection,

That will immediately be detected,

When this shower

Comes to power

And problems will melt away

Like icebergs or glaciers,

If this lot get elected

To the local council here.

In a school or in a church hall,

With three or four other hopefuls,

Who will each stand and say

In our own charming ways

That the other two or three

Embody incompetency

And delusion and confusion,

And are, in fact,  bags full

Of pure political pus,

Unlike us,

Because we are, you see

Bold, brave, clear sighted and free

And how good it will all be

If you just elected us.

We’ll take questions

And pretend to listen attentively,

as through gritted teeth,

We grin.

At the foolish, fools and bigots,

Who might just be

Voting for us.

And after the hustings are over

And when we’ve consumed the tea

Or the other hospitality,

And the biscuits are all crumbs,

We’ll go back to being humans

And cease from selling snake oil

From a platform in a church hall,

And stand in a queue in the drizzle

Waiting for a bus.