So The Wurzels have teamed up with the Conservative Party to bring down the inflation-plus-10% cider duty, the single most hated piece of legislation since the poll tax.
As documented here, I’ve had my run-ins with The Wurzels. It’s no surprise to see them meddling in the affairs of the state; they are a band of great and dark power. Warrior-Poets. Others have correctly observed that “When the moon shines on the cowshed” is the greatest opening line to any work of literature; and who can doubt the direct influence of “The Blackbird” on Edgar Allan Poe? (For those who think the influence must be the other way about, remember that the Wurzels have been going strong since 1728, during which time they have played I’ve Got a Brand New Combine Harvester on some sixty or seventy million occasions).
No longer can I sleep at night, get peace of any kind,
That bird’ll be the death of me, he’s prayin’ on me mind!
If I chase him long enough, I’ll get ‘en by and by,
And celebrate me vict’ry with a girt big blackbird pie!
Cider tax? Nevermore!