Twenty votes, thirty votes
Forty votes onward
Into the voting booth
Strode the three hundred
" Forward the Fools' Brigade,
After their votes! " he said
So to the ballot box
Strode the three hundred.

" Forward, O Democrats!
Down with black Derby hats! "
How could the Party know
Someone had blundered?
Their's not to make reply
Their's not to reason why
Their's but to vote — and lie.
Into the voting booth
Strode the three hundred.

Pickets to right of them
Jobs to the left of them
Soreheads in front of them
Shouted and thundered.
Hounded with shot and shell
" Let the Street go to Hell
We'll do the job as well! "
As they collected votes,
Cried the three hundred.

" Charge the Committee then! "
Three hundred stalwart men
Traitors to Nineteen Ten
Broke the class spirit while
All the world wondered.
Swayed by false argument,
Urged to the Polls they went
Scoundrels and ignorant
Worthy three hundred!