My thoughts are interrupted by a bit of political news which brought to mind the Munchkins, given our prime minister’s diminutive stature:
Song of the Munchkins
And oh, what happened then was rich.
The house began to pitch. The prime minister took a slitch.
It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch,
Which was not a healthy situation for the Wicked Witch.
The house began to pitch. The cabinet took a slitch.
It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch,
Which was not a healthy situation for the Wicked Witch.
... Who began to twitch and was reduced to just a stitch of what was once the
Wicked Witch.
Ding Dong! The Witch is shed. Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!
Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is shed.
Wake up - sleepy head, rub your eyes, get out of bed.
Wake up, the Wicked Witch is shed She's gone where the goblins go,
Below - below - below. Yo-ho, let's open up and sing and ring the bells out.
Ding Dong' the merry-oh, sing it high, sing it low.
Let them know
The Wicked Witch is shed!
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