my home is in chain, surrounded by evil forces, of greed and lakadaisical rascals, who cannot crave honour to themselve, More to a nation that is in dear need for change.
The Pest, who suck the earth dry, And barren a fatile nation, For the curse of their hot pants, Which has blinded them to see clearly, And perceive a whore as the national service,
Shamelessly busy doing nothing, Departing from one brothel to another, "to invite foreign investors" When the local ones are bankrupted, Due to high demand and expensive running, The ants that lifted the elephant.
The mongers, Whose flambouyant quarters, Spreaded all over beautiful cities, Sometimes christened overwhelmingly as embassy, Or did they actualy misspelled the meaning? Striving to deceive those who have gone to the moon.
They are drunk, To understand their position, And stand a proper balance to know, They should learn to work for their country, Not the prostitute they find so entertaining, And they loot that their own children could not inherit.