Chaos, demolition, destruction
controlled through supervised instruction
no end to slaughter, no reduction
have their own ways of seduction

On that throne, they sit and stare
The one which is called the 'chair'

Nation's green honour gone abrupt
you say, you're still not corrupt?
no one points at you, while you deduct
waiting for the world to erupt

Just about everything, you'll see here
Roots all clung to the evil chair

In which those so called governors sit
organisers, runners of this lovely bit
performing tricks for the show to lit
prepared for them is a special pit

Looters and criminals, all have a pair
Of gloves to keep stain off their chair

Don't believe their words, bark whatever
bamboozle us, truth from our eyes they sever
residing in those large structures like hever
could write three books upon their clever

Dreadful reality transferred heir upon heir
Criminals need not legitimate relations, just their ****** chair!