The politician yearns for power
although that power's surreal.
He spins the ball that's on his nose
like some performing seal.
That ball of votes and contributions,
they're never all he'll "need" –
They ain't no cure; they ain't no cure;
they ain't no cure for greed.
The broker schemes to make more dough,
but never makes enough.
And so he dreams derivatives
and other crafty stuff.
But no matter how his schemes succeed,
to him they're chicken feed –
They ain't no cure; they ain't no cure;
they ain't no cure for greed.
They're both concerned you lost your job,
your house and all you own,
As long as you don't come to them
and cry, and bitch, and moan.
For without a mortgage or address,
you can't vote and you can't bleed –
You ain't no cure; you ain't no cure;
you ain't no cure for greed.
Bob Carlson
with a nod of thanks to Leonard Cohen
www.politicalboondoggles.com
8/10/09
To 'Goldman Sachs'
To 'Harry Reid's Politicians'
To 'Trying to Rein in Wall Street Pay'
|
|
|
|