Dunderhead Tonight

<em>Eric Clapton is giving up touring. The Conservatives lost the election</em>

It's late in the contest, he's wondering what look to wear,

He's facing a break-up, and stroking his new-mown hair,

And then he asks them, "Was I too far right?"

And they say, "Yes, you're the dunderhead tonight."

He talks to his party and everyone turns to note

The posse of stranglers with hands reaching for his throat

And then he asks them, "Was I too far right?"

And they say, "Yes, you're the dunderhead tonight."

He's the dunderhead because he sees

The sunlight from his arse

And the thunderous applause means that

He just can't seem to grasp

How much he's lost it.

It's time to drink up now, and he's got a swollen head,

And Downing Street's parky, Cherie helps him into bed,

And then they tell him, as he gives up the fight,

They say, "My darling, you're the blunderkind all right,

Oh my darling, you're the dunderhead tonight."

This article first appeared in the 11 June 2001 issue of the New Statesman, There are years of fun to come