Ordinary day in Serbia

An Ordinary day

This is an ordinary, gray, December day in Serbia:
Everytime some new affair. Ministers with no degree,
often dismissed by decree, by some ‘higher’ authority.

Oposition, real and false, well know faces, cheaty noses,
waiting for a second chance to grab what’s left, bury us and dance.

Our neighbors, poor scavagers, stabbed noses in some mighty ass,
barely hiding their true nature, bloody traces, hatefull face.

Politicians – all dishonest; kneeling rats in Embassies;
Gutters, thieves, drags and crawlers,
Davennport’s bithes, Kirby’s hookers.

Everyday is dark in Serbia, With imbeciles in charge,
Ready to ‘dance’ as their Masters play,
at any cost and price.

Hand over the territory, destroy everything!
Give mines away, factories for free!
They’re your masters, they have chosen you!,… until,
one day,
we get free…

And that day shall come. That’s what gives us hope.
Your end is near, you obscene fools
Soon we shall cope!

Kisha

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