Fourth of twelve, boy do I delve.

Be it the blackrock,

or the boys in blue,

Fidelity fit,

I feel it too.


Too much money,

heading to top.

Inflating the prices,

this we must cop.


Take a grain,

of this old mans woes.

If I got in early,

lots more ho ho hoes.


Rubbing shoulders,

pleated pants.

New neck ties,

flights to france.


Fillet minion,

Henschke and grange,

Cant spend enough,

to lower your frames.


Artwork and painting,

houses and flats.

land thats discounted,

and you’re worried about tax.


The doctors yell,

The lawyers scream,

But all I could get,

is a pound of ice cream.


Money moves,

to those crooked cartels.

while the rest of us murder,

our loved ones dreams.


The future is bright,

the future is grim.

the future is christ,

that’ll keep on ringing.


The FED’s at war,

with greed and fear.

Dissents derived,

the black pools are here.


Up and down,

more and more.

Till they decide,

we’ll hit the floor.


Grace humility,

generousity too.

Who ever says,

try the other shoe.


Smarter harder,

longer sharper.

But who’s decided,

that this times faster?


Poking at progress,

Pecking at peeves.

Who the hell cares?

we look and we leaves.


Its weird and its strange,

its fancy and fanatic.

But who decided,

who gets to panic.


Pickup the pieces,

rot till you drop.

rust wear and tear,

This time I’ll stop.


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