A Delusion

If you’re sick and tired of life And the wear of business strife, And decide to take the veil, To a Minister you tell, Whom you know very well, Your long and sad, sad tale. When he grabs you by the hand And says in manner bland: “You can certainly count on me When we have a vacancee, As sure as sure can be; You’ll get the tip On the strict Q.T.” If to yourself you say, As you go your hopeful way: “I certainly get a Government job At a decent salaree.” What a singularly deluded jay You certainly will be.

If you’re up to all the tricks Of the game of politics, And know a few M.P.’s; You would naturally think That as easy as a wink You’d get nearly what you please; But you’d be singularly lacking In the necessary backing If this was all you had, And you looked for an appointment You would suffer disappointment In a manner very sad. You see it’s just this way: You can say just what you may, But Political Pull is a very funny thing. It’s as strange as strange can be. If you’re doubtful of the fact, Just go against the Act To get a Civil Service sit and see.

Conventionality counteth not high in the game, but it counteth.