Carry On Up The Brexit
Roll over Napoleon, sod-off Adolf Caesar
You’re not grinning anymore Mona Lisa
Listen to the words of Mother Theresa
Brexit means Brexit
Shoot yourself in the foot, throw dust in your eye
Jump off a cliff, plucky Englishmen can fly
Smack yourself in the face with a custard pie
Brexit means Brexit
Flat-pack furniture without instructions
A vacuum-cleaner without any suction
Sherlock Holmes without deductions
Brexit means Brexit
Building sandcastles in the pissing rain
The people chose sandcastles – don’t complain
Bucket, spade, anorak – soak up the pain
Brexit means Brexit
Pull up the drawbridge, fortify the shores
Turn back the clock, lock all the doors
Spotted dick, scurvy, saloon bar bores
Brexit means Brexit
Give two fingers to the liberal elite
Make the cosmopolitan obsolete
Ignore expertise, idiocracy’s sweet
Brexit means Brexit
Repel the migrant armada, be prepared
Let their jungle burn, watch them running scared
Leave them all abandoned dans la merde
Brexshit means Brexshit
By Elvis Costello — according to an email, 17.11.16.
And then we find that maybe it’s not THE Elvis Costello https://twitter.com/ElvisCostello/status/799801632389152768
and then we receive this in another email (20.11.16):
We believe it is the work of a former-Soviet mole or possibly the Seaford Mods.
We say: great poem/song, anyway!