In the halls of Holyrood, dusty and grand,
Where the leaders all gather to govern the land,
There was a great kerfuffle, a hullabaloo,
About money that vanished; a million? Or two?

“Oh, where is the cash?” cried the people, quite loud,
“It was meant for the Cause! It was meant for the crowd!”
But Peter the Murrell, with a wink and a grin,
Had stuffed it in pockets and tucked it all in.

He embezzled the pounds with a sleight of the hand,
While the boss, Nicola, stood by, somewhat bland.
“I’m sure it’s all proper! The books are all tight!”
She chirped to the voters, from morning to night.

But then came the truth, like a slap to the nose,
As the numbers went wrong and the scandal arose.
The party was shaking! The voters were red!
“We need an inquiry!” the Parliament said.

But the SNP Leaders, in a panic-filled huddle,
Decided to turn all the truth into muddle.
They jumped and they wiggled, they flipped and they flopped,
“Stop looking at us!” was the plan that they popped.

“Why look at poor Peter? Why look at our crew?
Let’s look at the Greens! Look at Labour too!
Let’s look at the Lib Dems, and Tories, and all!
Let’s look at the parties, both wide and quite small!”

“It’s not just our scandal! It’s all of the lot!
Let’s judge everyone for the trouble they’ve got!”
They voted in blocks, with a smirk and a glare,
To make sure the focus would vanish in air.

So the crimes of the chief, and the failure of eyes,
Were buried in stacks of political lies.
“It’s a wide-ranging probe!” they exclaimed with a shout,
While the truth of the theft was effectively out.

So they sail on the ship, in the same murky sea,
Avoiding the mess of their own decree.
The books stay a mystery, the money is gone,
But the party goes voting, and stalling, and on!