The Song of the Jailables
(The Song of the Jellicles, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats)
WilliamBanzai7's Book of Practical Fat Cats
Jailable Fat Cats come out to-night
Jailable Fat Cats come one come all:
The Jailable Moon is shining bright -
Jailables come to the Predator's Ball.
Jailable Fat Cats are never black and white,
Jailable Fat Cat hearts are rather small;
Jailablecle Fat Cats know every con n slight,
And unpleasant to hear when they caterwaul in Capital the halls.
Jailable Fat Cats have decks with five aces,
Jailable Fat Cats have shifty black eyes;
They like to practice their Ponziesque airs and graces
And wait for the Jailable Moon to rise.
Jailable Fat Cats ethics are lowly,
Jailable Fat Cats bonus wallets are too big;
Jailable Fat Cats have a Ponzi mono-poly,
They know how to dance an analyst gavotte and a quarterly jig.
Until the Jailable Moon appears
They make their toilette on a fine French commode:
Jailable Fat Cats wash investors behind their ears,
Jailable Fat Cats hang their shareholders by their toes.
Jailable Fat Cats are opaque but not white and black,
Jailable Fat Cats like leverage of immoderate size;
Jailable Fat Cats jump you from the back,
Jailable Fat Cats make toxic asset surprises.
They're quiet enough in the pre-opening hours,
They're quiet enough in the late afternoon,
Reserving their terpsichorean powers
To dance by the light of the Jailable Moon.
Jailable Fat Cats aren't black and white,
Jailable Fat Cats (as I said) hearts are small;
If it happens to be a systemic fright
They will practice a bailout caper or two in the hall.
If it happens the market sun is shining bright
You would say they had nothing to do at all:
They are resting and saving themselves to be right
For the Jailable Moon and the Predator's Ball.