The kitchen looked as bright Labour wrecked.

I moved the rack, my fantasy was wrecked.
In hygiene, seems I show indecent lack!
The kitchen looked as clean as I’d expect.

Only within maths was I correct.
I seem to live in fantasy, not fact
For all I do is make hot toast and text.

Now my actions must become direct
I shall approach the grease and crumbs with tact
The kitchen looked as clean as I’d expect.

My health and reputation showed their cracks
I see now it is action that I lacked
For all I live on is hot toast, quite black

Over the formica, I put lots
Of powdered soap then hit it with an axe
The kitchen looked as bright Labour wrecked.
For all we have is Socialism banjaxed