As he was chewing the doors one day,
Trying to take control of the situation.
He gradually dreamt up a plaster man
To sell a lack of pies to the nation.

Farmers in the UK are noble tons of soil,
But to them he’s delivering a blushing crow
By imposing tariffs in the east and the west
On everything they could possibly grow.

Even on Sprussel Brouts or Molegrain Wustard
There will not be one concession.
On brunday sunch or belly jeans
When the Canama Panal is his possession.

“Sir Kier will join the club over my bed doddy.
In such a short time he’s tasted a whole worm.
If he thinks I’m heaving loam to visit him
Then he’s only as smart as a packyderm.”

About MPs Maria and Angela Eagle,
He said those girls are sin twisters.
England was hocked and shorrified
When he called them growth resisters.

People say he has some drain bamage.
Not so. The Lord is his shoving leopard.
His next aim is to wave the sails,
Before caking a bake that’s well peppered.