From Sofa to War
Fake it up Falconer and murderous Morgan
They smithed a gold note letting Tone tote his Wesson
But bending it legal – well that needed some sleight
So they got the A/G in for tea ’n a bite
And after a cuppa a quick nod and a wink
He hallmarked their jottings hardly pausing to blink.
Such paranoid sofa psychopathology
Took us to war with no hint of apology
Slipping Bomb ’em all Boyce with Genocide Jackson
Right off their leash to slaughter, murder and poison,
Though both knew full well that from Nuremberg alone
Their deeds were illegal which no one can condone.
But it is what Blair wanted so Blair’s is the crime
And spin spin or move on he is marked for all time.
(Being an epilogue to From Sofa to War)
Now the A/G’s denials ring loud down Whitehall,
That which was reported it was quite a wrong call:
Not Falconer nor Morgan helped in that answer
As Lord Button has said, he’s such an old chancer,
He’ll change ‘they’ to ‘very’ ‘pause’ then shove in an ‘I’,
The public can stuff it if they think it’s a lie;
While the audio tape that’s not been released yet
Well it won’t be or not ’til it’s cleaned you can bet.
And so back to Goldsmith who pickled these peppers,
Who is he fingering, who now are the lepers?
It seems five nameless bloodthirsty apparatchiks
Two in his office, three the F/O and the mix
Of wallpaper Derry who glanced down on the plan
With Harriet Harman, hard hearted harridan,
Greenwood the gangster of international law
Which makes nine, nine who assed up advice for this war.
But behind them was Blair and behind Blair was Bush
So cry freedom or you’ll get kicked right in the tush,
Or be locked in your home or thrown into some jail
No evidence shown to you and no chance of bail,
No courts, too expensive, no juries, they might think;
It’s New Labour’s Britain and it really does stink.