Farage
‘ I look down towards his feet- but that’s a fable.’ Othello
He has been around before, our Nigel –A slick, snake-oil salesman sellingHis miraculous cure-all stuff.Strutting the stage with his pint and fagHe plays the wise fool who laughs at the King.But his grin for the crowd or the cameraWould petrify Medusa.
Don’t cry Harry – but England and St. George –Lance the foreign dragon, drain the English flagonLanguish, for ever, in a green and pleasant landWhich will be forever England.But you would have to have a heart of stoneNot to fear for a folk seduced by a manWhose feet, even the Pope, would fear to wash.