| You got some shares in a speculative venture
|
| You got some stock in a gilt-edged bond
|
| You stretched out tight by the terms of debenture
|
| The game is on…
|
| You chase the bulls in eternal corrida
|
| The thought of loss is more than you can bear
|
| You scan the index for a market leader
|
| A tip and a prayer
|
| You better see daylight:
|
| Night comes on the City so soon
|
| You say you are a christian capitalist
|
| But you dance to a different tune
|
| Jobs for the boys and dole for the shop-floor;
|
| Rationalize, strip the assets and run
|
| If the contract stalls, then you’ve just got to cop more, ain’t Monopoly fun?
|
| You made some pretty deals along the way
|
| Judas and Faust are in accord
|
| When the revolution comes you may be blown away
|
| But I bet you’ll end up on the board…
|
| Only the money
|
| Only the money
|
| Sometime in the future you may realize that the day
|
| You made your decision to follow money as a goal was
|
| You darkest dawn--and that, since then, you have
|
| Venerated figures as deities; |
| and, for you
|
| People are just pawns
|
| But that deal includes you:
|
| You’re just an asset like the rest
|
| And you, too, stripped naked, beg the Money-God
|
| Not to put you to the test
|
| He’s got no further use for you
|
| Now, there is silence on the floor
|
| Clever money-computers chatter privately
|
| No people any more
|
| Only the money |