Union Songs

John Howard's Christmas

A song by John Warner©John Warner 2005
Tune: Good King Wenceslas

Christmas presents filled the mind of wee Johnny Howard.
He would rob the workers blind to see the rich empowered.
With his tiny brain in gear, plans the lad was making,
Gifts to give his mates this year, from all others taking.

Workers who don't toe the line, let the bosses sack them.
Johnny Howard says it's fine, they'll have laws to back them.
All unfair dismissal laws, tinsel wrapped with holly,
Scrapped in the employers' cause, won't that gang be jolly.

"Here's your nasal grindstone, mate, gift wrapped from your master.
Don't complain or curse your fate, kindly pedal faster."
Round and round and round she goes, wearing faces down sir,
Bloody, red and flat our nose, Howard's nose is brown, sir.

"Bring me flesh and bring me wine, bring a barbecue, sir.
Plenty for these mates of mine, no, there's none for you, sir.
Lots of debts and lots of lies, financial excision,
If you dare to criticise, we call that sedition."

Once a year does Christmas come, a subject for reflection,
Noses flat and spirits numb, when's the next election?'
One more gift to open folks, and it’s a back hander,
One of Howard's little jokes, a national Gerrymander.

Red suit and a fluffy beard don't suit our prime minister.
Howard's puny soul is geared to a dress more sinister.
Mask and jemmy, stripey vest, pitchfork, horns and tail, sir,
But broad arrows would be best, and ten years in jail, sir.

Notes

Many thanks to John Warner for permission to add this song to the Union Songs collection.

Visit John's website at http://www.folkjohnwarner.com

Find more John Warner songs on this site. Visit John on the web at: www.folkjohnwarner.com

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