(Confessions of a man with little honour.  But you get it while you can)

 

I used to turn up on them marches

Arms linked with the Trotskyist host

But now I tune in to the Archers

“Them as lives longest learns most”.

 

I wore all my badges and labels

The shouts and the slogans and words

I learned them just like my times tables

But really I went for the birds.

 

My passion was not allus honest

I carried the requisite books

But when trouble broke I was first gone-est

(You don’t want to spoil your good looks).

 

‘Das Kapital’ allus impressed ‘em

That little red book wrote by Mao

I’d quote him as I undressed ‘em

(The one about seed and the plough).

 

They fell for my crude propaganda

Which easily slipped in their head

And, when it was up, like my dander

As I read to them Lenin in bed.

 

Deception, of course, was all Coopey’s

And tantamount almost to theft

But it kept me supplied with my groupies

All sourced from the gullible left.

 

But ladies it’s time to no longer

Feel conned by the gist of this post

We all make mistakes when we’re younger

“Them as lives longest learns most”.