What do you Make of Jacob?
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Jacob Rees Mogg, oh Jacob Rees Mogg
Rose from the depths of a foul, toxic bog
And stared with intent through a poisonous fog
Searching for public estate he could flog
An accountant who scribes in a three-column log

Jacob Rees Mogg, oh Jacob Rees Mogg
Stands up from the benches and gazes agog
With the sneer of a stoat and the eyes of a frog
A monocle, pipe and a hipflask with grog
The slimiest oil in the free-market cog

Jacob Rees Mogg, oh Jacob Rees Mogg
A top hat, a stick and a fine hunting dog
To track down the peasants to roast like a hog
Return to the days of the workhouse and smog
When the poor tugged their forelocks and polished their clogs

Jacob Rees Mogg, oh Jacob Mogg Rees
Until you are gone, there's no justice, no peace