O, Danny Boyle, the sheep, the sheep are grazing
To open Games, a Beatle at their side.
The Budget's blown, but it will be 'amazing',
The NHS and cricket will collide.
Glas'bury Tor! A giant bell and mosh-pit,
A score of sparklers and a fluffy cloud,
A horse, a cow, and possibly some chickens -
O, Danny Boyle, O Danny Boyle you'll do us proud.
Now in the wards, the patients’ beds lie empty
And our young people’s future has been canned,
But £27 million buys a lot of maypoles
To decorate this green and pleasant 'lympic land.
We'll roll out barrels, wave our flags of Empire
And hope Take That and Who can sing in tune.
Before we know it, swiftly comes September,
And we'll return to economic gloom.
Yes, we'll simply return to economic gloom.