The
power creeps in
The
crazy ones will not sleep
They
feel the power flow
They
imagine they are the little gods
One
word many will fall
They
can feel the adrenalin pushes
The
little people will be at their mercy
As
these crazy lots will run over them easily
There
will be the apple polishers
They
behind the shadows of the powerful guns
There
there will spin their tales of intimidation
The
aim always at the ordinary people
These
apple polishers dare not aim too high
On
the political foes whom they can't match
They
will do the guerilla tactics hitting and running
They
always say there is no smoke without fire
The
power in the wrong hands
The
wrong directions one will face
The
nation will face the shame
The
people can't stand up straight
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