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Wow, this C17th poem is so prescient it could have been written yesterday.
A child analyses the British political landscape, in the similitude of a dream:
I dreamt I saw a line,
It stretchit left to right,
And on the line the people sat,
All huddled 'gainst the night.
Some pits were at the ends
For the nasty red and blue,
'Cause all the decent people were
A beigey kind of hue.
And the baddies were in office,
And the goodies all outside,
But a Guardian said a lawyer
Shall come to turn the tide.
He will wear an anorak
And that will be his sign,
And he will make the baddies go,
And the beigies all align.
Then the beigies they looked up,
And the beigies they felt strong,
'Cause in the sky a Keith appeared
And happiness was come.
And then it was my breakfast
So Mummy pulled my toes,
But I know there's a happy land
Where all the beigies goes.