art by banksy

talkin’ humanity on the rocks blues …

I’ll have my blue label whiskey neat, while the 99% search for tossed-out leftovers to eat,

I’ll shuck my oysters while all around me people dig for scraps in the much,

I’ll wear my crocodile skin shoes, while to everyone I bemoan the stock-market blues,

draped in haute-couture, I walk in suits of fine silk, while on capitalisms’ teat I suckle and milk,

my friends and I on golf courses close many a business deal, and just like woody said – we cackle as with our gold-tipped fountain pens we pillage and steal,

I’ve flooded markets with stuff made in sweatshops where teenage girls are shackled, while against more market control I have consistently prattled,

my home is a palatial mansion, and just one of the many that I possess, while billions barely live in slums that don’t even have an address,

I smirk and smoothly do the television rounds, hailing deregulation, while maneuvering for neo-liberalism to run rampant, without any bounds,

I bribe the vulnerable, and do so around the clock, to further my interests, while I wear the mask of mock-shock,

I walk and I talk with conceit, my arrogance far too gone to be shed, as I lay conformably with the governments and corporations with whom I share a bed,

and I know that my image is all important for the markets not to stutter and never to shake, so I make grandiose pronouncements of the charity I give, though always carving out a healthy chunk for a beneficial tax-break,

yes this is me, the capitalist who sees only profit for profits’ sake, my eyes never wavering from the ticker of shares, bonds, and stocks,

while I, and all of my ilk bash humanity in all its forms, harshly and cruelly, in perpetuity, against the jagged rocks …