An Ode To Ed. And Ed. The metre is 8-6-8-6 so it fits most hymn tunes. Off you go.
Oh Ed, you make me laugh so much, so long and loud. My glee, when you so proudly say your piece on Twitter, or TV, is boundless, dearest Ed, for though I think you mean so well, we're all in the same handcart here, careering down to hell.
From time to time you come up with another hairbrained scheme, I don't know where you get them, but I do suspect your team of "experts", mostly unpaid kids from uni, tech or worse, with aspirations to a job or hands in public purse.
"Let's stop the evil bankers!" is your latest battlecry. I snork out loud as I then hear Ed Balls firmly deny he told the Bank of England chief to shut up yesterday; he did though, cos I heard him, so it isn't just hearsay.
"And Labour will start two more banks, competing with the rest," you do so make me chuckle, Ed, but surely, right, you jest? Two wrongs don't make a right, you know, no more than do two Eds. I sometimes wonder if you pair retire to separate beds!
So dearest Ed, continue as you are, and never change. That Cameron must thank his lucky stars, and find it strange that he could never lose the fight, not even to Farage, not even if the girl McCann was found in his garage.
Oh Ed, you fill me with delight as bumbling through the day you find another silly, stupid, foolish thing to say.
If you become our next PM, I swear I'll eat my hat. I wish you well though, keep it up. You adenoidal twat.