Corporate Blues

I’ve scratched myself raw
and sold all my spreadsheets
of the business I started
last June when I could speak

Of certain uncertainties I
left for the morning,
and countless defenses
given as warning

For the collapse soon to come
of some fine institutions
that sold all their stocks
to receive restitutions

for all the cold suffering
they shared with the maid
who washed their detergent
and polished their shades

It’s fine to assume
You know that what’s what
And you belong in the game
And you’ll never be cut

But the Finance co-chairman
Has sold all his ties
To a handsome sub-contractor
Who coughs when he lies

And the Executive Branch
Is in disarray
A mole has revealed
The price that they’ll pay

For personal privileges
Like handshakes and kisses
And lasting impressions
For the kids and the Mrs.

So I quit that fine boardroom
I’d had it with gin
My shoes were too tight
And I never fit in

I was given to outbreaks
Of gossip and hate—
And I couldn’t forgive
What they took from my plate

So I bid them farewell—
I gave back my hat
Returned all my tie-pins
And said, “Well that’s that.”

And I headed for Egypt
Where I heard it was warm
And the girls all smile sweetly
If you sound the alarm

But the mullahs were bearded
I preferred a clean shave
And my sandals were sorry
They couldn’t be saved

So I headed for Paris
Where the summers are wet
And the cafes are filled
With people I’ve met

And I talked ‘til the morning
With poets in drag
And slept through the midnight
‘cause I was half in the bag.