O, let's not be beastly to Helen
She's got more than enough on her plate.
For one thing, her creation:
The sustainable nation!
At least till two thousand and eight.

Why must we be horrid to Helen
(or Michael, or Damien, or Pete)?
They try so hard, yet
What thanks do they get?
Assessments I dare not repeat.

O, why do the press hate the Government?
You'd think they'd play fair, but instead,
What do they go and do
Given an interview?
They report what the minister said!

O, why don't the media play nicely,
And put their opinions aside?
They just sit and heckle
They're no Doctor Jeckyl
So can you be blamed if you Hyde?

In the golden age (the early Eighties)
They just did (they were never this bold!)
What all the MPs
On all sides agree
Is their job - to repeat what they're told.

O Helen, I know that it's irksome -
"The Free Press!" Cheer up! Could be worse!
That free sort of press
In the end, costs you less,
Than what's bought with the public purse.

O Helen, was it something I did?
It's so very easy you see
To say something vicious,
Or perhaps (shh!) seditious,
When I find Parliament in contempt of me.

O Helen, it's hard, but forgive us
Like children, we haven't learned yet
That pride precedes a fall -
We're only mortal, after all
Even if some of us do forget.