For the benefit of my many foreign readers let me explain that today is Budget Day. This used to be an important parliamentary occasion in which the Chancellor of the Exchequor comes to the House of Commons and informs the country how much he's going to rip off them in the forthcoming year. There used to be a tradition that nothing, absolutely nothing, was to be leaked beforehand, in fact, one Chancellor was forced to resign when a detail was mistakenly released a day early. Today, of course, the country is run by PR men so virtually everything is leaked days ahead. Anyway, I watched our Chancellor perform today and despite the plethora of statistics and economic jargon I have managed to summarise the whole thing, er, with a little help from Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel, with an English-language libretto by Herbert Kretzmer. Needless to say, I have altered the names slightly but this is a fair summary of today in Parliament:
Members:
Come on you old pest
Fetch a bottle of your best
What's the nectar of the day?
[Chancellor enters with a flask of wine.]
Chancellor:
Here, try this lot
Guaranteed to hit the spot
Or I'm not chancellor
Members:
Gissa glass a' rum
Chancellor, over here!
Chancellor:
[To himself] Right away, you scum
[To Honourable Gentleman]
Right away, good Sir
Labour MPs:
God this place has gone to hell
So you tell me every year
Mine host Osborne He was there so they say,
At the field of Peterloo
Got there, it's true
When the fight was all through
But he knew just what to do
Crawling through the mud
So I've heard it said
Picking through the pockets
Of the workers' dead
He made a tidy score
From the spoils of war
Chancellor:
My band of soaks
My den of dissolutes
My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts.
My sons of whores
Spent their lives in my inn
Homing pigeons homing in
Then fly through my doors
And their money's as good as yours
Tory MPs:
Ain't got a clue
What he put in this stew
Must have scraped it off the street
God what a wine!
Chateau Neuf de Turpentine
Must have pressed it with his feet
Landlord over here!
Where's the bloody man?
One more for the road!
Chancellor, one more slug o' gin.
Just one more, or my old man is gonna do me in.
[Chancellor greets a new MP.]
Chancellor:
Welcome, M'sieur
Sit yourself down
And meet the best
Chancellor in town
As for the rest
All of 'em crooks
Rooking their guests
And cooking the books
Seldom do you see
Honest men like me
A gent of good intent
Who's content to be
Master of the house
Doling out the charm
Ready with a handshake
Voters appreciate a bon-viveur
Glad to do a friend a favor
Doesn't cost me to be nice
But nothing gets you nothing
Everything has got a little price!
Master of the house
Keeper of the zoo
Ready to relieve 'em
Of a quid or two
Taxing up the wine
Making up the weight
Pickin' up their knick-knacks
When they can't see straight
Everybody loves a Chancellor
Everybody's buxom friend
I do whatever pleases
Jesus! Won't I bleed 'em in the end!
Chancellor & Tory MPs:
Master of the house
Quick to catch yer eye
Never wants a passerby
To pass him by
Servant to the poor
Butler to the great
Comforter, philosopher,
And lifelong mate!
Everybody's boon companion
Everybody's chaperone
Chancellor:
But lock up your valises
Jesus! Won't I skin you to the bone!
[To another new taxpayer...]
Enter good sir
Lay down your load
Unlace your boots
And rest from the road
This weighs a ton
Travel's a curse
But here we strive
To lighten your purse
Here the goose is cooked
Here the fat is fried
And nothing's overlooked
Till I'm satisfied
Russians are more than welcome
Bridal suite is occupied
Reasonable charges
Plus some little extras on the side!
Charge 'em for the lice
Extra for the mice
Two percent for looking in the mirror twice
Here a little slice
There a little cut
Three percent for sleeping with the window shut
When it comes to fixing prices
There are a lot of tricks he knows
How it all increases
All those bits and pieces
Jesus! It's amazing how it grows!
Tory MPs:
Master of the house
Quick to catch yer eye
Never wants a tax-payer
To pass him by
Servant to the poor
Butler to the great
Comforter, philosopher,
And lifelong mate!
Everybody's boon companion
Gives 'em everything he's got
Chancellor:
Dirty bunch of geezers
Jesus! What a sorry little lot!
Ms. 'Harry Harperson' MP:
I used to dream
That I would meet a prince
But God Almighty,
Have you seen what's happened since?
Master of the house?
Isn't worth me spit!
Comforter, philosopher'
And lifelong shit!
Cunning little brain
Regular Voltaire
Thinks he's quite a lover
(But there's not much there)
What a cruel trick of nature
Landed me with such a louse
God knows how I've lasted
Living with this bastard in the house!
And there you have it, gentle readers, perhaps not quite a Hansard rendering of Today in Parliament but I feel it goes to the heart of the matter!
(PS: If they weren't 'Miserables' then they will be when they read this load of old tut!)
