A gory tory story

We cant have homeless people
Littering the street
Thats the tory mantra
And its far far from discreet
Windsor a royal borough
With the castle and we hear
Harry and his lady
Supposing they appear

With all their vast huge riches
And these souls lying there
Not a penny to their name
And nobody to care
We cant have the worlds cameras
Seeing just how poor
Their subjects are the destitute
Especially now the raw

Weather is upon us
But April shouldnt be
Still the showers could happen
Getting wet who wants to see
Assorted tramps and vagabonds
Littering the street
Clearly not the leader of the council
Ah so sweet?

A gory tory story
Not a bedside story No
More a horror story
Associated low
Life of good old England
where poverty is rife
Where paupers looking ragged
Face a day of windsorial strife

The leader told the coppers
We have to move them on
We cannot face the wrath of gore
They really must be gone
Where to ?
How the hell do I know
Just get them out the way
Our streets have to be paved with gold
Not where beggars beg okay!

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