Mr Shortarse regrets,
he’s unable to banquet today, Ma’am,
being only 5’7”
he’d not even attend one in Heaven,
because it might do his self image harm.
He won’t be seen with the Queen
and the orange, American president.
The President’s so big,
the Donald’s six foot three.
Mr Shortarse intends
they shall never be friends,
he’ll not succumb to a ‘Fascist’s’ charm
and what would they say at the BBC?
Yet still, he’ll have his say:
Mr Shortarse, will join with his short arsed peers,
and speak to the crowds instead.
He’ll not give thanks to the dead,
who’ve lain in their graves these 75 years,
and for whom he cares not a fig.
For he couldn’t set a precedent
and be seen with taller men,
believing he’ll soon be resident
at lovely number 10:
Mr Shortarse regrets
he’s unable to banquet today.