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Thursday, August 07, 2003

The Ballad of Lord Archer

Air: Lord Franklin

Lord Archer bade his whore depart
With pounds two thousand for her fare
Not knowing that the hacks were smart
They trapped Lord Archer in their snare

Before the court next day he stood
And swore his chastity for life
His mate an alibi proved good
The Judge admired his fragrant wife

Five hundred grand against the Press
You'll pay to slight his Lordship's name
The whore not fragrant so we guess
A liar and charlatan put to shame

To follow Whittington then essayed
Lord Archer to be London's mayor
But the mate his friendship ill repaid
And revoked his alibi unfair

Four years hard labour you deserve
Lord Archer now a prisoner wan
Four years in open prison serve
In stripes and shackles noble con

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