Twisted Human Roots

Johnny Spillane be my name
I’m neither of fortune or fame
but with my able hardy back
I climbed out of the potato sack
and made a family and a living

Life was bleak in County Cork
me the twelfth arrival of the stork
my family had neither land
nor any opportunity at hand
so I shipped off to Ameri-cay

Having no papers or money
oh, that land of milk and honey
she was mighty, mighty harsh
it being ‘no dogs and no Irish’
so I did what I had to do

Getting off that bottom rung
was no sweet sung song
the dollars and coins were sweated
as I obeyed and marionetted
biding my time all the while

Then I caught me a lucky break
an offer from a Mallow rake
to supply the needed muscle
enforcing his wayward hustle
so my pocket began to fill

Now, I sit behind a desk
others working at my behest
a society respected man
who started with nary a plan
blessed, if there be a God

My past, I keep it well hidden
when I was doing others’ bidding
for no one would ever believe
what I did so I could achieve
and drag myself out of the gutter

Now I’m acting like the Brits
it gives my elderly parents fits
scorning the powerless once like me
though they’re not any threat as I see
all they want is theirs to dream

The Financial Rapist’s Creed

It’s not a complicated business this taxpayer trough
all this money-making there for the my taking
from the get-go, I counterfeit an inside flush
rigging the system enough to make a dead man blush

I’m a rainmaker, just pissing all over yours and you
a money whore galore, hey that’s just how I roll
A gentleman farmer, growing a bumper cash crop
I’m at the top, ain’t gonna drop, with no plans to stop

Chorus:

I fix matters to fail fortuitously fruitful
betting on despair is just part of the plan
of looting coffers and shedding all blame
putting Willie Sutton to professional shame

Impunity, immunity, it’s about the I’s and no U’s
whatever I desire is going to be mine, mine, mine
go big and go large and go deep and go long
I can’t go wrong ’cause I have no words to that song

You call me the rapaciously evil devil of the vault
label me a dollar bill Caligula or a close derivative
for simply making figures align, yes I live so fine
I’m a financial whiz, there’s no her or his, just mine

Chorus

I’m just a financial whiz, there’s no her or his, just mine

M-O-N-E-Y

The Koch Boys own some on the Supremest of Courts
with the rest of the majority, it’s wink and flirt
as for governors, senators and representatives all
it’s a brown nose affair of beck and call

Theirs a purchase protection racket at very best
feathering crony capitalism’s burgeoning nest
greasing all manner of palm and ballot box
the duo a put-the-Borgias-to-shame poisonous pox

Chorus:

Oh, they’ll drown you and call it a baptism
draw down your lifeblood and say it was a gift
make you Sisyphus with boulders ever growing
then nonchalantly aim you over the cliff

With ideas unable to succeed on merit alone
having to rig the system throwing monetary bones
these welfare kings with a slakeless thirst
boost a patriotism of their bottom line first

Terrorists who destroy with their wallets
blithful witnesses to the calamities they knit
proposing 30 pieces of silver as a start
keeping their hands clean if not their hearts

Chorus

Their enterprise now passes for civics genteel
warping reality into what is full-fledged surreal
just what will they utter on their beds of death
a making of amends or damn full speed ahead

Chorus