Jeremy Corbyn, Labour’s boss,
Got on the train down at King’s Cross,
And once on board with time to bide,
He thought he’d take us for a ride.
He sat down on the carriage floor,
Just inches from the toilet door,
And getting out his camera phone,
Which possibly was not his own,
He started to a movie make,
Which could be done in just one take.
His views on railways are, I think,
Well known to be not blue but pink,
And he thinks it would be so wise,
The railways to renationalise.
So he began to film off script,
His words were clear, quite nice and clipt,
He said he’d sat there on the floor,
Because of seats there should be more.
The problem was, in fact still is,
That Corbyn now is in a tizz,
For cameras placed to catch the cheats,
Showed Corbyn passing empty seats,
And long before his trip was done,
He spent some time there sat in one.
Confronted with this simple fact,
The party started to back-track,
And said some seats, perhaps them all,
Must have been seating people small.
And these small people, dwarfs or elves,
Then travelling all by themselves,
Since no-one else of them has spoke,
Just vanished in a puff of smoke.
So Corbyn has been caught at last,
With ‘Pravda’* playing loose and fast,
He really should have used his brain,
When travelling by Virgin train.
* Pravda was the official newspaper of the Soviet Union. Pravda means truth in the Slavic language.
Photo – http://www.telegraph.co.uk
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