Seventeen Years Hard Tory

On our way out of the slammer,
They rammed a gate straight in our face.
A bolt sounded loud as a hammer
And locked us all back into space:
We balanced our feet on the edge, on the brink,
But now we're still shut in the national clink.

Seventeen years in our cages!
Banged up like black rats in a brig!
We haven't seen action for ages.
There's no room to shimmy or jig -
Was that sniff of freedom  a whiff of fresh air?
Is there any oxygen waiting out there?

Three prison warders have hold of our throat.
It's lucky our feet know the right way to vote.

From the book Tony Blair reminds me of a budgie

High court judges stopped the release of prisoners whose sentences were thought to have been miscalculated.