Tony Hall, oh, director-general,
Thank you for all!
Thank you, oh cher, Tony Hall,
For teaching us, BBC’s sycophants,
That hatred is love, yes it is love!
Now you know, I was and still I am
Your favourite editor, Amol Rajan,
A man in love with every “Ism”
Especially, in love with sycophantic Journalism
You see, dear thee? I make history!
As the greatest and the biggest
Lackey in the history of the BBC!
I’m your slave, master, Tony Hall!
I’m your slave! Your slave forever.
Until my last breath is given to heavens!
For example, master.
I’m not allowed to speak
Against a majesty like you!
Because BBC’s rules
Say never speak against yourself!
But never mind, big elephant,
I can be your sycophant!
Yes, I can be your sycophant!
Is that a problem for you?
I hope it is not!
For it has never ever been
A problem to be a sycophant
In the human history, you see?
Dear, lord, dear thee!
You see, how dear sycophantic Journalism
Is to me? If not, please,
Let me tell thee what else
I can be!
I can be,
A sycophant journalist,
Who grovels for will to power!
Like a worm after a heavy shower!
I can be your yes-man To aggrandize you up To the grandeur of big bang! Tony Hall, My dear director-general! PLEASE, please, please, Listen to my poem of sycophantic journalism in peace!
You are good, you are great!
Your are like all of us, excellent!
You did a good job for us!
You didn’t inspire hatred
Through BBC’s policies at all!
You didn’t link a big religion
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