Wheelers and dealers,
Bankers with knives,
Slicing and dicing up,
Every day lives,
Buying and selling,
As much as they’re able,
With nary a clue,
About my kitchen table,
No ounce of concern,
About who gets burned,
Just their own bottom line,
Does a profit get turned?
No ethical squirms,
As they rape and they pillage,
Just financial concerns,
As they sell off each village,
Families out borrowing,
Just to buy milk,
While they lay around,
Counting threads in their silk,
Gambling and playing,
With everyday savings,
All steered by the market’s
Random psychotic ravings,
People so powerful,
Yet incredibly dumb,
Who need to be finally,
Brought under our thumb.