Twenty-three and the twelfth man

 Once upon a time, in a town of twenty-three

There were folk living there, just like you or me

They came, it seems, to have their druthers

to mind their own lives, not those of others

They enjoyed a boon, though nothing elaborate

They were not a commune, but most things were collaborate

If one decided to opt out of a task

they would just do it, there was no need to ask

No one went hungry, they had very few cares

A quite satisfactory state of affairs

Then strangers came, assuming great powers

with their claim "Now this village is ours"

"We have staked boundaries, formed a glorious State

and like it or not you will participate "

Now these folk were trusting, they saw no need to flee

It would take some adjusting, but how bad could it be?

Well things carried on, mostly same as before

just some minor nuisance one could easily ignore

But some trouble was brewing, it would grow quite acute

when the strangers returned to collect their tribute

The townfolk protested, cried "this isn't fair!"

The head stranger replied "Ha! The State doesn't care!"

"Be thankful we let you live on this land

because every square acre is at our command!

Now bring us our taxes, this very minute!

Frankly you peasants have zero say in it!"

So the townfolk submitted and surrendered their treasure

which the taxmen examined in very precise measure

Thus was it ever for many years hence

They squeezed and squeezed, they milked every pence

The world grew around them as they toiled away

and the State grew apace, to the general dismay

When esteemed institutions produced learned men

they searched for solutions to rein the State in

For Kings and their follies are by fiat decreed

"Something more democratic is just what we need!"

So they conceived a Republic, in which all had a stake

and a written Constitution, for posterity's sake

They made rule of law, to which all were subjected

This ensured all that their rights were protected

Now this was certainly better, but the townfolk soon saw

that this was only as good as those left to write the law

Still they cast their ballots every four years

with every result eliciting tears

For someone's ox is ever gored

when majority's voice goes ignored

We pray that for once, Dear Lord in Heaven

give some result other than twelve to eleven

The first twelve decided that they could choose

when to pick your nose and which hand to use

Then the next twelve had no inhibitions

to issue further prohibitions

Back and forth, this endless game

but every time one thing the same

That twelfth man is the bastard who keeps this fraud afloat

And I swear that when they find him they're gonna slit his throat