Monday, March 16, 2009


(Its Alright Ma(I’m Only Bleeding), Bob Dylan)

DOW crashes down at the break of doom
Shadows all the silver spoons
The unhedged bets, asset backed balloons
Eclipses both the market sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.

Ponzi schemes, are bluffed with scorn
Bearish remarks are torn
From the fool’s squawk box
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proves to warn
That your 401ks not busy being born
Its busy dying.

Greenspan’s day flies out the door
You follow, find yourself a bailout whore
Watch waterfalls of public scorn
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover
That you’d just be
One more Wall Street conman crying.

So don’t fear if you hear
A socialist sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ben, I’m only sighing.

As some warn of history, some of downfall
Economic reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be tanked to crawl
While others say don’t wait for nothing at all
Except for handcuffs and indictments.

Disillusioned investors bark
As trader gods aim and miss their mark
Trading everything from derivative toys that spark
To toxic assets that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
How all is really one big farce.

While Bearish preachers preach of evil fate
Ivy league teachers teach that knowledge propagates and
Leads to billion-dollar plates
Moral hazard hides behind the pearly bailout gates
When even the President of the United States thinks
We can’t nationalize zombie banks because capitalism’s dying.

An’ though the rules of the road have all been dodged
Because the regulator’s games are a fools hodge podge
And it’s air tight, Ben, they shake and bake it.

Wall Street hucksters that con you
Into thinking you can be the one
That can retire before fifty one
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life crashes down
All around you.

You lose your net worth, it disappears
You suddenly find you got nothing left but fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your weeping tears to hear
That the IRS thinks
They really found you.

A question on your trading screen is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Convince you better not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forgit
That it is not he or she or them or it
That can forewarn you.

Although the masters of the universe gamed the rules
For the wise men and not the fools
We got nothing, Ben, to live up to.

For them that must work for taxpayers and shareholder dimwits
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their bailed out banker destinies
Speak jealously of them that are TARP free
Cultivate their lives and dreams to be
Nothing more than another Ponzi scheme
to invest in.

While some on market principles baptized
To strict economic platform ties
Nobel laureates in drag disguise
Outsiders they freely criticize
Tell nothing except which formulas to idolize
And then pray for God to bless them.

The one who sings in the bailout choir
Should have his bail out pants lit on fire
Bent out of shape from the markets pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the same financial blackhole
That he’s in.

But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in an empty bank vault
But it’s alright, Ben, but we just can’t appease him.

Old neocon ladies watch in despair
Limited in sex, all they do is dare
To push necon morals, neocon insults and throw neocon chairs
While dirty money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Their hollow neocon propaganda, all is phony.

While them that pretend that they cannot see
That there’s no such thing as a riskless security
It blows their minds almost instantaneously
To think Wall Street operates dishonestly
Will fall upon them disastrously
Life in jail sometimes
Must get lonely.

My eyes collide head-on with quantitative geeks
False models, I scuff
At snake oil con men who just talk guff
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
Whatever else please don’t show me!

And if his financial-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put that banker’s head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ben, it’s life, and life only.

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