Gandhi, Gandhi,
where are you going to run to
with your mucker, Nehru?
Churchill won’t come near,
he thinks you’re a buccaneer,
but he can’t resist your smile.
How he really longs
for you, Gandhi. Gandhi,
chatting up the Muslims.
Jinnah finds it puzzling,
he’s acting like a gandu
and there’s not much
you can do,
he wants his Pakistan
but secretly he longs
for you, Gandhi. Gandhi,
what are you going to boycott
in your little loincloth?
With your band of deviants
and your civil disobedience,
these are the ingredients
of a very happy Gandhi. Gandhi,
must you go on hunger strike?
Gandhi, it’s really
a humungous hike
to the beach, your flip-flops
getting dreadfully sandy.
When Nehru has a daughter who will rule with iron yoke
folk will get confused, but Indira only married a bloke
called Gandhi, Gandhi,
and he was no relation
apart from the same nation,
but remember those hartals
with old Jawaharlal,
those truly were the days,
and Gandhi, you’re all right,
and you were right
that Western civilisation
would be a good idea.
