A skill you execute, par excellence
While running scared of anything
That spooks Maori or our MSM
God forbid you’re asked
For your opinion on a controversial task
No straight answers but your bent is clear
Labour-lite behind a National mask
And it seems to me, you lead us all
Like a candle in the wind
Smoky visions, dim decisions
Prone to wavering
Another corporate crusader
In a social justice cloak
Your candle’s almost burnt right down
Your legend’s going broke