| 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 |