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You Win

Congratulations you’ve made your escape
From rules and regs and all that red tape
But will those promises turn out to be honkers
As you wake to all string and no conkers

Light the blue touch paper and retire
If they let you leave the race
Don’t go back to check on the fire
It could blow up in your face

Build your castle from the sand
In the land of plenty
Pass the parcel from hand to hand
Might find the box was empty

The Queen’s English is all you’ll hear round here
We don’t need fizz, or plonk, or brandy
Bring back mead, drink British beer,
But Vitamin C would be handy.

Gaze up at the feathered nest
Atop the old oak tree,
So much higher than all the rest
Here in the land of the free.

You’re on the winning team
The cowboys are on the hill
Now you get to live the dream
And buy their golden pill

As you line up with Rover
On the White Cliffs of Dover
Having just mown over
The last four leaf clover
You’ve made your bed
Your seeds are sown
The papers said
It’s yours to own
So wave your flags
Break out the bunting
The Deal’s in the bag
...happy hunting

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