First Past The Post
Roll up for the Chiltern Hundreds,
Try to catch the gerrymander,
Ev’ry safe constituency’s
Always worth a gander.
Fetch the rosette off the lamppost
And strap-on your parachute
The borough may be rotten,
But the bribes are full of loot.
Then off to the Lords you toddle
With your handshake dipped in gold,
They’ll barely even notice you
In sleepy Sarum Old.
Rhyming Couplets 