Had we but cash enough, and time,
To print our names would be a crime;
Our lawyers would devise a way
To keep the media at bay.
Super-injunctions fit the bill
When we’ve embarrassments to kill.
For, Lady, you deserve a break
(And I’d be free to play the rake).
But at my back I clearly hear
That bastard Hislop hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast ignominy.
Your reputation turned to dust;
Revealed to Ashley, all my lust.
The Beeb’s a fine and private place,
But Private Eye is on my case.
So now, before our cover’s blown
Let’s claim the high ground for our own.
“I would not gag a fellow hack –
I wished to spare the lovely Jack !
Surely a man and family
May have a little privacy ?”
Thus, though we cannot thwart the Sun
We’ll still look out for Number One.