Thatcher came knockin’
upon heaven's door,
“Fuck off!” shouted God, “You’re rich not poor.”
“But, my dad was simply a local grocer”,
Said Thatcher as she moved ever closer.
“That’s far enough, stand away from the gate,
You’re full of contagion, riddled with hate;
You’re destined for the other direction,
To that furnace of perpetual correction.”
Looking down she mused, “Why regret?
I’ll be there with Dennis and Pinochet;
My sins will place me on the top level,
Just behind Churchill, close to the Devil .”
So, smiling she turned from her creator,
“God, he’s agin us, fucking liberal traitor”;
Now for those running Hell a word to the wise,
Give her no power or else she’ll privatise!
“Fuck off!” shouted God, “You’re rich not poor.”
“But, my dad was simply a local grocer”,
Said Thatcher as she moved ever closer.
“That’s far enough, stand away from the gate,
You’re full of contagion, riddled with hate;
You’re destined for the other direction,
To that furnace of perpetual correction.”
Looking down she mused, “Why regret?
I’ll be there with Dennis and Pinochet;
My sins will place me on the top level,
Just behind Churchill, close to the Devil .”
So, smiling she turned from her creator,
“God, he’s agin us, fucking liberal traitor”;
Now for those running Hell a word to the wise,
Give her no power or else she’ll privatise!
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