A red-head who runs a red top
Ought to know just when to stop
Smearing and lying,
Phone hacking and bribing of cops.
Enter bold Knacker of the Yard,
But he didn’t search very hard,
Claimed when he got there,
News Corps’ cupboard was bare,
So the IPCC marked his card.
A grasping old fart from Down Under
Spent a lifetime amassing much plunder.
When answers were wanted
He let rip or ranted,
And followed up with a ripe chunder.
The PM, a public school fop
Despaired as his ratings went flop,
Where’s all the glory
The news is all gory
And this champagne just tastes like pop. Oh dear!