"Look, trust me, I'm a good sort of guy,"
It said all over his face and his notes,
"We'll win being straight, the others will lie."

Win this election or see our hopes die,
Was the message we got - he needed our votes,
"Look, trust me, I'm a good sort of guy."

April ninety-seven, election stand-by,
The others were dirty, we went for the throats,
We won all right, no need of a lie.

But joy turned to tears as peace was denied,
Those we had trusted wore a new set of coats:
"Look, trust me, I'm a straight sort of guy."

Now, God's pressed for war and on him we rely,
He's on our side our bold leader boasts,
"We'll win being straight, the others will lie."

When he grins street children really do die.
Triumphant and snug with the media he quotes:
"You trusted me, and I'm God's sort of guy,"
But we won only hate because of a lie.