On any given morning when I open the paper
Pages spill out inevitable capers
Yet another civil servant raping the coffers of the nation
My bruised exhalation provides an indication
Of popular frustration, despite countless credible accusations
The short arm of the law can't achieve penetration
Hence no explosion of elation following elections
So I just sigh, flipping past print into the sports section
Gilded fool, don't you remember the golden rule
Serve all the people or they'll serve you
Like a pig on a platter
Tin-pot prince, the crime-scene is full of your fingerprints
Gloveless you steal in arrogance
But there is torchlight cresting the hill
It seems expensive suits have deep pockets
Far more cavernous than you might think
Fine silk tunnels that sink beneath the soil
Into a humid hell where men boil and toil
To prise prized minerals out of faces of rock
But those burrowing pockets flock to siphon up
All the blood-stained treasures drawn from veins of mining
Platinum and gold come to rest within suit linings
Gilded fool, don't you remember the golden rule
Serve all the people or they'll serve you
Like a pig on a platter
Tin-pot prince, the crime-scene is full of your fingerprints
Gloveless you steal in arrogance
But there is torchlight cresting the hill
Private jets for affairs of state, courtesy of the electorate
Champagne and caviar, stuff leopards into hostesses' bras
Air Czar makes touchdown in the afternoon, met by VIP goons in
Armour-plated BMW's
Blue lights blaze down gridlocked streets, sirens like scythes through wheat
Armed convoy's cargo can't afford, to miss that meeting of the corporate board
Evening brings its share of tender rewards, sports cars and high-class whores
Oh, civil service is contagious
Don't you remember the golden rule
Serve all the people or they'll serve you
Like a pig on a platter
Tin-pot prince, the crime-scene is full of your fingerprints
Gloveless you steal in arrogance
But there is torchlight cresting the hill