Seven nursery rhymes for Ian Maxwell

Baby black sheep
Have you any wool?
Yes sir Yes sir
Three bags full.
Twelve for the master
Twelve for a wheeze
And one to pull across the eyes
Of employees.

The Grand Old Duke Of Pork
He had ten million quid,
He spent it up to the top of the bill
And made the markets skid.
And when they were up, he was up,
And when they were down, he was up,
And when they were only halfway down
He was still up.

Little Miss Muffet
Sat at her buffet
Eating her words like whey.
Along came a pension
Not paying attention
And brightened her up right away.

Ring a ring o' roses
A racket run by poseurs,
A pension! A pension!
We all cash in.

Hey diddle diddle
The captain will fiddle
The pensioners over the moon.
The lackey dogs laughed to see the con,
And the whale swam away with harpoon.

Little Bo Peep has fleeced her sheep
And doesn't care where you find them:
Leave them a loan
And they'll go home
Dragging their tales behind them.

Half a pound of tuppeny shares
Half a million green ones:
That's the way the money goes,
Pop was the weasel.


From Tony Blair reminds me of a budgie