Fratinil Fratinilofish Budim
runs a nation of godless atheists
and his favorite meal in the whole world is
the Filet-O-Fish sandwich with no cheese;
if he doesn't have one sandwich daily
no one in Luccia eats for a week;
indeed on every street corner, we smell
liquid fish guts flowing down the gutters.
Fratinil Fratinilofish Budim
resolves problems through liquidation plans,
as no one in Luccia wants to die
the people suffer indignities but
if we demand our rights at a protest,
nobody knows how but food disappears;
indeed, we know the terror-famine well,
leave the stinking streets to the guttersnipe,
or loud-mouthed punks, self-righteous skinny brats
feeling their way through the dark like the blind
in search of sunshine inside a cavern;
stupidity has no survival skills,
how we live day-to-day makes the Lord smile.
Budim is President, Prime Minister,
ugly merchant of surreptitious deals;
deals that make us rich selling state secrets,
if not our own but of other nations,
murder is not above his evil deeds.
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