You're definitely barking up the wrong tree

If you're expecting a walk with integrity, in the big society

The countries gone to the dogs

Let's doff our cap to the rich and richer gods

The pedigree breed are throwing scraps to the mutts

There's no steak, just cheap off cuts

Cameron and Clegg, compo and Clegg, amateur butcher's boys

Our belts are done up real tight, in the gusset of Nora Batty's tights and there's a hopeless noise

That says no jobs, no prospect and no money

It's the last of the Summer Wine and last of the good times

And to be honest it's not very funny.

The cabinet is so rich; they could buy the crown jewels

Jolly Hockey sticks and Hue –ray Henry deluded fools

They are in the driving seat and Pole position

But the car is a cut and shunt, it's all back to front

In the coalition, demolition crash course mission

They give us nothing to believe in, nothing to trust

Politics of cold sick, lies and sleaze, a country on its knees

With no boom and all busts, it's raining with pain and people's resilience is turning to rust

Is embarrassing to mention the sub total of you r pension

At 83 still be ready for hiring, because you won t be retiring

And your Kids will not be going to Uni either

Don't worry about your swine flu jab, because the countries got a nasty dose of Lib Dem diarrhoea mixed up with a Tory fever.