He prescribes the subject

he proscribes outsiders

his terms have a golden ring.

He wants to find some order

quantifying chaos

in words that all the children sing.

He tabulates the lexicon

vocabulary minimised

bow down to the Jargon King.



All questions become so simple

if we eat the inane answer

if we all agree to ju-ju speak

we fit into the formula

we all without exception

approve the rule.



We don't understand

he must be clever

he must be clever

he must be right

he must be right

we don't understand



Closed the ranks and barricades

imposed the secret language

complexity all catch-phrased

word-drugged any anguish

pigeon-holed allusions

shut the vault behind us

It's an obvious conclusion

we'll be the chattels of His Highness.



Bow down to the Jargon King

and his minion code-words.



Here comes the reign