THE BANKSTERS’ SUMMER SONG
Now we sit in the dogs days of summer
with lots of air conditioning in our hummer.
Don't worry at all we got oil under wraps,
and for GOLD we are wearing our shorting caps.
All around us hedge funds hit the dirt,
with death and destruction the economy flirts,
but we've got GOLD in the cage we desire,
and we can put out any SILVER fire.
We are the masters of the summer heat,
going on vacation, bathing our feet.
Don't make us think too far down the road,
we buy the DOW and we won't unload.
Don't make us think of any fall depressions,
we've got the theatre and therapy sessions.
We are the banksters and lords of the land,
we don't need GOLD and SILVER in hand.
We've got our loans on expensive homes,
if people don't pay, let them learn how to roam.
Don't talk of stringing us up for our lies,
we've got our lawyers and government ties.
You ask when this carnage is going to end.
Don't ask that question my naive friend.
We have our Hamptons and our dogs of summer,
we've got the air conditioning in our hummer.
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