'Tis the season to update your Christmas songs - Toby Neal's 2024 take on traditional tunes

I am, of course, happy to oblige with a selection of rewritten ditties. Please feel free to join a festive singalong. And to make it easier, I've indicated the tunes where they may not be obvious.

........

Clod Gregg Wallace was called out,

In the MasterChef kitchen.

Silly fool had talked about,

The places he was itching.

Rightly zoom was abuzz that night,

As folk discussed whether he'd do it.

Judge and jury came in sight,

Headed by Rod Stewart.

(To the tune of Good King Wenceslas).

............

While farmers watched their stocks at night,

Counting what they'd got,

Sir Keir Starmer came down and said,

Thanks I'll take the lot.

Fear not, said he, for as I've often said,

I cannot tell a lie,

Not every farmer will be hit,

And so says BBC Verify.

(To the tune of While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks).

...............

Once in Sir Ed Davey's city,

Stood a politician in a punt,

He fell in the water with a big splash,

'Twas another a publicity stunt.

Critics, they said: "You're like a child."

He said: "Yes, but look how high Lib Dem votes have piled."

(To the tune of Once In Royal David's City).

.......

In the bleak mid winter,

Pensioners would moan,

But Rachel stood hard as iron,

As they chilled to the bone.

Snow was falling snow on snow,

Snow on snow.

How they needed those fuel payments,

That Rachel said had to go.

(To the tune of In The Bleak Midwinter).

..........

Oh come all ye faithful,

Despairing and defeated,

Oh Kemi, oh Kemi, lead a Tory postmortem.

Oh come and behold her, not winning was so shameful,

Oh come let us adore her (repeat three times - or at least until convinced),

And sing in exculpation.

Cripes! Good Lord!

(To the tune of... oh come on, you must know this one).

.........

Away in a MAGA,

Joe's gone back to bed,

And the world cries sweet Jesus,

At a future to dread.

The stars in their right minds,

Know it's still not too late,

With weeks before His coming,

There's time to emigrate.

(You'll know this one too).

........

O come, O come, Emmanuel,

And free us from this captive Brexit hell.

Britain mourns in lonely exile here,

Until our French friend Macron will reappear.

Rejoin! Rejoin!

Emmanuel shall come, he's so imperial.

O come, O bright and morning star,

And bring us comfort from afar.

Dispel the shadows of the night,

And turn Brexit darkness into EU light. 

Rejoin! Rejoin!

Emmanuel shall come, he's so imperial.

.......................

On the first day of Christmas my true love said to me,

They've already started the festive build-up ­- and it's only January.

...............

Jingle bells, Jurgen smells, I hate how Liverpool play.

Oh what fun it is to be,

A Premier League referee.

And that **** Klopp can **** *** all the way.

(This traditional song has been adapted with bespoke lyrics on the terraces down the generations).

.............

Adoring fans of Gary Lineker,

Wonder how they'll replace the star.

He's a genius, but there's always Jermaine Jenas,

He really can't have gone that far.

(To the tune of We Three Kings).

..........

Wes, are you listening?

The NHS, they're all dissin'.

It's stumbling along, things are going wrong,

In the state-run blunderland.

As we know, he'll aspire,

To stop waiting lists going higher,

He'll face up to facts, and put up our tax,

To pay for the state-run blunderland.

(Winter Wonderland, of course.).

.................

There is a green hill not far away,

Outside Wolverhampton's city wall.

Now it's part of the grey belt,

And soon they'll build on it all.