Retrogressed to a point the leaders,
A comparison is doing our cousins wrong.
The political party shit slinging scene,
Plays on like an incongruous hindi song.
As a child when in the heat of the heartless sun,
When an ill fitting song would blare.
I felt like a triple fucked whore,
Fire set to her pubic hair.
There's so much bullshit you gag with it,
I sit in loadshedding talking to worms inside.
No right in sight with a deck dealt wrong,
The warm worms are my guide.
Beads of sweat drip on the floor,
I shit in panic mode with thought.
The summer just started,
Inconsiderates in degrees of rot.
Either people are beyond repair,
Or too pious to listen to rational piss.
My mind draws an angry blank.
In the dark I hear the worms hiss.
And what's with the belligerence you ask,
Take a peep outside.
No beyond the paid wagging tails to see,
The shit that's too large to hide.
It's your shit, minister, see!
You're NOT supposed to do the electorate wrong.
But look, here you are, at it again,
Fucking us with your shitty schlong.
Mister leader fuck you very much,
You eat shit and die I say.
I hope generations of dishonest indians,
Get visible cancer wherever they may.
