A society of citizen swines, their spines,
They shit as a rehearsed part.
Groups of dingo, impoverished lingo,
Enjoy all the power fart.
Their brains no longer worth,
A very very runny wobbly jelly.
Putrid and full of smelly warts, the parts,
Balloons of homogeneous belly.
Short sighted and short circuitous,
The circumstances are dire.
The country on brink, the citizens drink,
Piss from the leader's ire.
It's all very well, the days roll on,
One day into the next night.
Gradually and irreversibly the nation sinks,
Into the fright of a permanent blight.
Mass hypnosis and mass paranoia,
All working like anesthetic smell.
The puppeteers loot the nation,
The laity left with the aftermath and hell.
