The King of Lockdown raised a glass

A toast to ghosts of empires past

His gaze steadfast upon the cast

Of gathered acolytes, his class

And scenes they would deny

 

The grape and grain of government

Authors of instruction meant

For others, never their intent

Without consent of votes once lent

Ever to comply

 

The King of Lockdown, slovenly

Dismissive of discovery

Of drunken, workless company

Endemic this incumbency

Would simply tell a lie

 

The King of Lockdown, King of Bluff

Born of the stuff to just rebuff

Never knows when it’s enough

Never goes when it gets tough

Lets truth slide idly by