Our Father who stays in Lilongwe,
Give us our monetary share,
Declare it in sunlit Lilongwe,
Shielded by the New Parliament Building,
Not very far away from the New State House-
Though a little far from Sanjika.
Forget not the slot for Panado,
As you never forget to feed your stomach,
Apply that black substance called tar to all the landscape as loose as
That poor vilagers may stop eating dust from your fast tyres.
Give us also artificial light,
To assure us of the burial of lonesome darkness.
Please, don't forget to give us our portion of that new, strange juice,
Which we caught you call Zero-deficit budget,
A phenomenon whose conception we were not there to see..
It is true: we are not that sure whether this product,
This step son of yours called Zero deficit,
Is the son of Southern Bottlers or Diplomatic-Panic Manufacturing Industries!
When 2 pm is come and gone,
Send us the toothless document through this visible, though untouchable air
That our souls may gulp it soft but dry
To power us through Harold Camping's imaginary dots,
Till 2014 beats our shoulders hard