A real groovy pension, but plenty of tension
You fly cheap for your life, don’t see much of the wife
You’re boss of the caucus, but it gets kind of raucous
You’ve got all sorts of wheezes, have to put up with greasers
You can be stabbed in the back, by a “friend” from the pack
You can be gone in a coup, while you’re out in the loo
You need a persona for media, be an encyclopaedia
Some people call you a dork, people claim lies when you talk.
Whatever actions you decide, there’ll be folks to deride.
No one is happy, many think you are crappy.
You have a balancing mission, with your group coalition
If you go with the flow, you’re a weak so and so.
If you talk really tough, you’re dictatorial and gruff
Your pay rate shows promise, but you’d do better in commerce
You must smile until it hurts, overseas, wear weird shirts
Play golf with top folk, be PC and woke
For your government, you’re keen, to be a well oiled machine
But you really feel crummy, when some MP is a dummy
Breaks the law, or gets sleazy, herding cats seems more easy
If your stay’s short or long, you could end up with a gong.
When all’s said and done, you can’t please everyone.
Chris, John, Helen or Rob, they all lined up for the job.
But what a mystery, I sigh, you’ve got to ask why????????
Ron Taylor
