Gentlemen! a politician,
One who values his position,
Stands, with easy confidence,
Here before you on the fence.
For he knows full well, good friends,
All your aims and all your ends;
And that these you may attain
He will strive with might and main.
Gentlemen! my sole ambition
Is to see that your condition
Shall continue to improve;
Wherefore I shall shortly move
For a special grant to buy
Extra bedding for your sty
Force it from the Government
For the folk I represent.
Gentlemen! You crave nutrition;
And I hold my high position
By your will and by your votes.
Pollard you shall have, and oats!
And I know you’ll vote for me
In elections yet to be,
While I cater for your needs,
Promising yet further feeds.
Gentlemen! The Opposition,
By its frequent repetition
Of base lies would have you think
They’d increase your food and drink.
Friends, their secret aim, I know,
Is to cut your rations low,
And, while they but sneer and scoff,
It is we who fill your trough!
Gentlemen! This talk of ‘Nation’
Is a vile abomination!
You are asked to sacrifice
Food and swill, and pay a price
For a shibboleth like that!
You are asked to give your fat
That your children, by-and-bye,
May possess a better sty!
Gentlemen! The aspiration
To build up a mighty nation
Is a question far too big
For an ordinary pig.
Truly, we don’t care a damn,
When we’re bacon, pork or ham,
What the fate of pigs may be.
Let ’em root the same as we!
Gentlemen! This tortured question
Gives you mental indigestion.
Such vague things you do not heed.
Food in plenty is your need.
In my place in Parliament
It is you I represent;
And I’ll face all vile affronts
For your sakes! (Delighted grunts.)
Gentlemen! The proposition
For the honest politician
Is: ‘Can I secure more oats
For the folk who give me votes?
Can I fill their troughs, and give
Mush to them, that I may live?’
To that end he should employ
All his art. (Loud squeals of joy.)
Gentlemen! A politician
With my knowledge and position
Knows full well that such as you
Take the plain, right-thinking view;
For himself each fatted pig,
And for all the rest – a fig!
Gentlemen, I greet your ranks,
And accept your grunt of thanks.