On the occasion of the British Foreign Secretary not understanding that colonial poetry is not best read out on visits to former colonies..

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, as you swan around the world,
With your maaah, and wiff-waff jollity, while the chaos is unfurled.
An 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your Brexit plans in play,
As you sit along the sidelines, plotting the fall of May

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your Bullingdon Club style
You're a self-regarding tossbag, but one who's worth a pile.
An 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your game show host decorum
As you even convince Trump's men you cannot be relied on.

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, making news where-e'er you go
Risk our futures on a pitch-and-toss, then fumbling your throw
An 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, Garden Bridge gone down the pan,
You big great streak of shite - what a poor excuse for man.

So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in London Town,
You're embarrassing to all of us, not noticing our frown.
An' 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air -
You incompetent buffoon - please fuck off over there.