A modern nursery rhyme

Sing a song of sixpence

Pockets full of dough,

Four and twenty reasons

Nobody will know.

Now the pie is opened

Members start to sing

Farewell to the gravy-train

No more loot to bring.

M.P’s were in their elements counting all the money,

Their wives were on the yacht-decks,everything was sunny,

Sprogs were in the night-clubs,swapping Z-list chat

But now the Daily Telegraph’s put paid to all of that.