The district council candidate
Has pinned a notice to his gate
To ask that you all vote for him
(He's got a nerve that Yuppie Jim)
He wants to keep the traffic down
And close this back route into town
And though I'm sure we'd all agree
The traffic's bad as you can see,
How would we ever get to work
(That Jim can be a dreadful burk)
His motives, too, are all too clear
He'd never thought this road so dear
Until he moved along this way
And found it noisy every day.
And yet his Rover doesn't care
How much it spoils the village air
Or just how large it seems to be
When children walk back home for tea,
He thought that country life was grand
But still he had to make a stand
Against the farmer's slurry tank
Because he said it really stank
And though the smell was always there
Long before Jim had a care,
He made the farmer pay the cost
For all depreciation lost
By charging him for special vents
To be installed to kill all scents
Yet Yuppie Jim then still complained
That all of this was done in vain
Because the constant whirring fan,
Which sounded like a motor van,
Had put his nervous mum on edge
In her extension by the hedge.
Nor did he want his neighbour here
To sell the meadow at the rear
To give the school more building space
(He really can be quite two-faced)
And said that it would spoil his view,
And other fields would surely do,
And yet he thought it worth his while
Permitting land beyond the stile
To be another building plot
Especially as he'd sought this spot
To build a house for his sister's son
And with council nod the deed was done.
So tear the notice from his gate
That Yuppie Jim can sit and wait
We'll not renew his council seat
He's just a selfish low-down cheat!
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