fuckitybye: (incoherent fucking scream of rage)
[personal profile] fuckitybye
[Forward-dated to sometime around midnight on Musical Flood Day 1. It's been a long and humiliating day for Malcolm Tucker and he's cranky, and hanging out up on deck alone. Or so he thinks. And before long, a voice rises in song...]
I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When polls were high and votes were winning
I dreamed Labour would never die
I dreamed the press would be forgiving

Then I was young and unafraid
And spin was made and used and wasted
There was no hush money to be paid
All fucking cunts, all foes lambasted

But the nutters come at night
With their policy soft as thunder
As they tear the party apart
All initiatives turn to shame

I spun a summer by his side
I filled his days with endless swearing
He took my wisdom in his stride
And he was gone when the election came

And still I dream they'll come to me
And we will win the votes together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And coalitions we cannot weather

I had a dream the campaign would be
So different from this shit I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now the Barge has killed the dream I dreamed...
[Anyone up on deck or in the gardens or whatever? You totally heard him, whether he knows it or not. Get 'im.]
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