The grandly titled House of Lords
Isn’t fit for purpose
It lacks electoral legitimacy
And its membership’s a circus
It stands there grandly over us
With much accompanying pomp and fuss
Hubris and vast excess
It’s utterly ridiculous
That the House of Lords (how very grand)
Determines the law of the land
To be signed by the monarch’s hand
Before it can on the statute stand
For its members aren’t elected
They cannot to be ejected
And the population is not reflected
In the individuals selected
There’s Lady Owen of Alderley Edge
Who was just 29 when she swore her lordly pledge
She could be lawmaking for fifty years plus
Without the indignity of asking us
Dressed up in her ermine frill
A tenure to compare with Churchill
He who fifteen elections won
How many has she won? None!
They made her a milady and in she went
To rule over us with no consent
Sat in the mother of parliaments
It’s undemocratic and I dissent!
And there’s Lord Cruddas, worth almost a billion
Of which he gave the tories just three million
But that’s sufficient to buy a space
Among the hundreds in this place
Establishment cosplay
For those who can pay
The legislature of the nation
Sold for political donation
They got money, too, from Lady Mone
But she’s more than made it back again
Whatever it cost her to get in
Was investment seeking a return
Through VIP lanes and WhatsApp chats
In this nursery for tinpot oligarchs
It’s just easier to open doors
When you’re walking the right corridors
How did Lord Lebedev get in?
He owned the press politicians were coveting
But surely that must be coincidence
It can’t be why they make appointments
Against the will of MI5
Who fear he’s a Russian spy
But maybe we need not much care
For in truth he rarely shows up there
Lords and ladies, in they went
To rule over us with no consent
Sat in the mother of parliaments
It’s undemocratic and I dissent!
The Bishop of Winchester is appointed by the king
That’s all it takes to get him in
He’s no earthbound temporal
For his lordship is spiritual
His place comes ex-officio
So, while in office, he can go
And make up laws for everyone
Of any religion, or none
Lord Ashton of Hyde, the fourth baron
Sits in the lords like his fathers before him
By dint of his heredity
Or at least that is how it used to be
Now hereditary peers, though special election
Are the only lords who get voted on
But only they can stand and vote
In their bizarre aristocrat ballot
Lord Goldsmith is baron of Richmond Park
The name he chose is a bit of a lark
He used to be Richmond’s actual MP
Until his electorate chose for him not to be
He was discarded only momentarily
Within a week he was elevated summarily
To the greatly tainted House of Lords
Where they don’t do elections at all
Lords assembled! In they went
To rule over us with no consent
Sat in the mother of parliaments
It’s undemocratic and I dissent!
Claret benches packed with the PM’s favourites
Plus those invited because they paid for it
Some going there to retire comfortably
Others anointed by their deity
With hereditaries elected in self selecting farce
And failed MPs elevated after voters kicked their arse
In an endless roll call of the inherently wrong
“Next up? Here’s Lord Cameron!”
It’s a corrupted, conflicted entity
A level of stupidity
The likes of which one doesn’t see
In any comparable democracy
America’s Senate
Legislates for a continent
With one hundred members voted in
But in peripheral little Britain
An ever expanding appointed cast
Fills our bloated upper house
New Zealand’s upper legislature
Used to be appointed similar
Considering its function
They decided there really was none
So they simply abolished it
And they’re doing fine without
Even in places that
Are ruled by an autocrat
Who doesn’t with elections fuss
They still manage to do it better than us!
Eswatini
Is an absolute monarchy
The king appoints his legislature
But unlike those appointed here
He has the power, the Swazi king
To kick his appointees out again
In Bahrain
It’s a bit the same
The king appoints his upper house
It’s no more democratic than ours
But appointment there is for a fixed term
Not, like here, for a life time
And outside of London
The legislative holy man
Is found in no place other than
The Papal Seat of The Vatican
And the Islamic Republic of Iran
With their intolerant theocracy in Tehran
The grossly turgid House of Lords
Has no redeeming features to record
Just cronyism woven through it
No matter how you view it
Atop British democracy
Sits a relic of antiquity
Appointments made opaquely
And dished out arbitrarily
Each membership for eternity
It’s a palpable absurdity
No pretence of legitimacy
Robed ennobled mediocrity
Squatting there for all to see
A source of national ignominy
Yes the grimly tarnished, grotty, tatty, gaudy, tawdry House of Lords
Isn’t fit for purpose
It lacks electoral legitimacy
And its membership’s a circus
(But, to finish sounding more upbeat
At least Dorries didn’t get a seat)
