‘Twas Faceless Bill, from Maribyrnong, that caught the caucus craze;
He turned his cheek and found himself the vote in thirty days;
He dressed himself in suit and tie as Albo bowed in grace;
And hurriedly, did Faceless Bill, go buy a brand new face!
He stretched it on and gave a smile, he was not used to teeth;
The nose was slightly crooked but it hid the woe beneath;
It did the job. He paid five bob. His chest puffed proud and true;
Until the shop assistant said, ‘Excuse me, who are you?’
“I’m leader now,” said Faceless Bill, “not Albo or Penny.
From Conroy’s Crap to Gillard’s Map: I ran the ALP.
I’m good all round at everything, as everybody knows,
Although I have no common vote – I AM the man that blows.”
The shop assistant shrugged her frame and went about her wares;
And as Bill strutted out the door he bore more quizzing stares;
For no one knew, just, who the hell poor Bill was with a face;
Though, least he’s better than the monk who lost the boating race.