Your sections, all lies,
Your form is only paper,
But you can singly stir,
More aggravation than a Bush.

Your titles, racist,
Your ideas are all warped,
And still in this country,
You are more popular than all else.

I live in your county,
And your views do haunt me,
Targeted now by BNP,
This is the true cost of your prescence.

I cannot understand,
How you can be so blind,
Or intertwine lies,
So readily on paper,
But every Friday night,
Highlights your plight,
And I am proud not to be,
The creatures I see,
Day by Day, In the sheets of white,
Arrogant to the world, or our most serious fight.