Morsels of Deceit
Give the people what they want,
let them have it quickly
The pot is on the boil,
hissing steam
Desires of an improper seethe
Angry thoughts on a roil,
the patience of diligence dissipating
Hurriedly, they the cast the peppery vote
For they all savor a king:
they alova his sweet, dainty speech
A savior king made of decaying flesh,
provides a nasty tasting
An unsightly welcome
to a feast of fools
Reaching clamorously for their
salty tongue tools
Their left hand holds the fork,
the right hand grips the knife
And belly growls
silver spoon demand
for the promised porridge
to be poured out more than twice
They have a gluttonous delight
for deceitful meat
The richness of the spice
gives the poor, ballot-starved souls
a covetous appetite
They say it don’t platter matter,
‘bout the color of the meat
But it seems the flavor tone changes,
when you turn up the heat
Give the people what they want ...
let them have it, poll quickly
Ever desirous for morsels of deceit —
Put a knife to the throat,
when that elected, grin ruler speak
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