Hear him as he plans
Out of the rubber, palms
And bananas stands
One of us, so tall but with faded
Glow that once adorned his face
A technician who worked hard
Using his intellect and hands
Now joins the rest on the scary
Band-wagon of the soothsayers
The populace tortured, say prayers
So those, who their mouth shamelessly
Run, drown with the sinking ship
His stance a kind of pride
And respect he might deserve outside
He will soon feel, down inside
When he discovers that his sense of duty
Has no purpose, no purity nor longevity
He too will sing the song of nudity
The refrain that continuously adds
To the requiem of the ugly and the bad governance.