Brutes of the fiery air
Brutes of the turbulent waters
Brutes of the smoky lands
We hail thee
Conquerors of cockroaches
Welcome to the part of the globe
Where the khaki
Noisy sirens
Steel hands
Speak reckless freedom
Uniformed brutes they are
Who batter and pound at will
The disciplined touts
With duty to perform on violent fields
Not to engage in civilian stripping on expressways
Why should the hunter leave the forest?
Only to hunt in tranquil gardens?
No glory in hunting a lizard
When there are elephants to kill
In thick wild forests
While national security lies in the casket
With idle steel hands to lend a hand to the impotent police farce
Who scamper into their holes
At the sight of their preys
The steel hands just revel in orgasmic civil abuse
These steel hands trained to hold barrels
Now hie in camouflages to tear earlobes
And beat to slack helplesss eardrums
Obtrusive camouflage!
Yes amidst civil shirts and suits instead of leaves
The king of the expressways
With forced right to smooth rides
Even in the face of chaotic traffic
Threatening and whipping with noisy sirens and kobokos
To perform the red sea wonder
You scratch their car
They give you scars
With those steel hands
Which never pay transports fares
But protects pocketorial integrity
These steel hands are tamed to protect me
And not molest me
Never think that I am a weakling
I only respect your uniform
For your I can deform
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