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Who will guard the guards of the public purse?
There is something about cronnies of convenience:
They are immune to the headman's wrath
When he cracks the whip on wayward servants;
They are appointed or rather reappointed
In the plum jobs even when
Their performance is below par;
The headman minds not the gaping holes
They dug in public pots;stalling're
The proposed projects rotting in age;
They were cohorts in crime; he sanctioned
The sales at the state lodge, didn't he?
They'll reap profits in their private parlours!
We wanted a man or woman of prudence
Who'll trim the tentacles of corruption with honest hands
But they prefered the tsar with deceitful indulgence;
We ought to be celebrating of his strong muscle
Twisting arms of corrupt headmen, but he's their hero,
He left their hands unscathed and more oiled with stolen fat;
So he wouldn't fire a shot to harm the hand
That feeds hims, and he gives him the ears too
When drinking tea beside his mahogany desk;
His daily dalliance with the lords of loot
Softens his heart and blunts his spearblade;
He's a naive actor in the drama of deceit,
A cropped crony, the fellows smile in corded connivance,
Now rewarded not hounded out of the hall of heroes,
Keeps the ribbons of change tight, the bright eye blurred;
The pandora's box must remain locked
With padlocks of steel, keys thrown to the kennels,
His cronny would be sentry at the hour of reckoning;
For the headman doesn't want snoopers with long noses
Who carry gadgets in their pockets;
Certain silences have to be sustained.
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He gives to the poor empty shells, the ignominy of
His inequity; the guilty cannot judge others
So he placates the public with placebos;
Rather than seeking merit on work well done
He looks for scapegoats and wears
Excuses like a graduation gown.
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So the anti-corruption bait only harness
The small fish, too weak to hold sharks
Who have sipped up the soup of the sea.
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So who would guard the guards of the public purse?
Who would rattle the snakes in the stonewall ramparts?
Who would restrain the pigs from raiding the public plate?
You know man, once sharp-tongued Mr. Pesa is an MP,
His parliamentary perks he passes pronto! With cronies of convenience
Your sweat they're served with spades rather than spoons.
