Mounting the platform on centre stage,
he lectured us a war we had to wage.
to destroy the weapons he said they’d found
hidden deep in Saddam’s ground.
So off he’d send our youngest kin
to a fight he said they soon would win.
Cheering crowds our troops would greet
and there’d be dancing in the street.
He said he had it from an inside source
that our only possible recourse
was to pre-emptively attack the power
that could annihilate us in half an hour.
When doubts were cast upon that news
he avowed they were not just his views.
One name he gave was Berlusconi’s
though no-one knew they were such cronies.
His best chum George he also mentioned
who, Tony swore, was well intentioned,
and conferred with the Dad he most revered
though some who heard that simply sneered.
That Dad, you see, was not related
but dwelled in a sphere more elevated,
His Higher Father was the one consulted
and we know the havoc that resulted.
Was there one weapon, or perhaps a missile?
The search, alas, turned out quite futile.
So, as the public long suspected,
no signs of weapons were detected.
But forget not George had been reborn,
though many held that claim in scorn,
while Tony, long renowned as smarmy*
was fast becoming known as barmy**.
And now Tony, to his lasting shame,
appears to want to shift the blame.
His God, he says, will answer for his actions,
even smite, perhaps, his opposing factions?
When Tony quoted his dodgy dossier
its words, it seems, he did not weigh.
The question is: was what he told us his own choice?
Or was he simply echoing His Master’s Voice?
.* Smug, false earnestness
** Off his rocker, or nuts