Sweary

They seek him here

They seek him there

He who envisioned

The Taoiseach bare

They will flake or break him

Because it’s become a crime

To engage in impudent, audacious Taoiseach bashin’.

There was a man

He had a brush

He painted Cowen

He made him blush

On the toilet, Y-fronts off

Our naked Emperor

He had a paunch and looked as regal as a Daschund

And then t’was hung

So quietly

In the National

Gallery

Reporters came from near and far

From RTE on down

To see the pic that Brian Cowen looked so crass in

The Taoiseach thought

This very mean

He nearly ruptured

His fucking spleen
“Remove this evil footage

RTE and do it now

From here on in the news is something that we’ll ration”

Poor Eileen Dunne

Apologised

For the report our Taoiseach so despised

But t’was too late for Brian

Because the internet exists

And it’s a place where free speech doesn’t get a lashin’*

The bloggers blogged

Tweeters condemned

The Gardai stormed

Today FM

Ray D’Arcy got in trouble

All because an artist thought
T

o paint our Taoiseach Brian Cowen fuckin’ flashin’

Although, y’know,

That’s not quite right

The issue’s bigger

And this whole thing smells of shite

There never should be reason

For to firewall the news

It’s left me hating Fianna Fail with fucking passion.

* At least, not yet anyway.

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Sweary