Who’s Sorry Now? Who’s Sorry Now?

Who tries to lie his way out any how?

Who ridicules we plebs and fools

By breaking his own laws and rules?

Is this the end? Shafted by friends?

Is this your terminal bow?

Run out of laughs? Too many gaffes?

Too late that you’re sorry now.

 

You hope and pray the facts that Sue Gray

Finds out about last May keep your exit away

“Why all this fuss?” asks that Liz Truss

But, Boris, that won’t wash with us;

And your lap-dog, Jacob Rees-Mogg

Will throw you under the bus

You’ll hop the bough; so ciao, Boris, ciao;

Too late that you’re sorry now.

 

Then in the week that Phil the Greek

Got planted your staff fanned the row

They partied on so you’ll soon be gone;

I’ll bet that you’re sorry now.