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Debra (DM) Kraft

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Popular Poetry (Business/Investing)
  1.  Proper Property Management



Bye-Bye Mr. Corporate Pride
by Debra (DM) Kraft

Thursday, February 05, 2009
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Debra (DM) Kraft
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           >> View all 62

*New lyrics for Don McLean’s American Pie, and a commentary on today’s state of affairs.

 

Bye-Bye Mr. Corporate Pride
(a remake of Don McLean’s American Pie, and a commentary on today’s state of affairs.)
 
A long, long time ago
I can still remember
When my leaders seemed to give a damn.
And I knew if I gave my all
Then I might climb instead of fall;
And maybe I’d retire with a plan.
But February makes me shiver.
Soon newspapers won’t be delivered.
Budget cuts and layoffs.
401s won’t pay off.
I can’t remember if I cried
When I saw more colleagues cast aside.
I’ve just gone numb down deep inside
Because the dream has died.
 
And bye-bye, Mr. Corporate Pride.
Pushed my Chevy to the levy ‘cause the gas tank ran dry.
Now the middle class is drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this’ll be the day that I die.
This’ll be the day that I die.
 
Once hippies sang of peace and love
But religious zealots shot that dove.
A great divide has taken hold.
Now do you believe in mind control?
Will a holy war save your mortal soul?
And does the book of Human Rights have loop holes?
Now you claim you’re a religious fool,
But your words are just a jester’s tool.
You’re actions don’t reveal
That you’re heart shaped words are real.
When your mentor joined the unemployed
And could no longer help you became annoyed;
You treat him just like a hemorrhoid
Now that the dream has died.
You started singin’
 
Bye-bye, Mr. Corporate Pride.
Pushed my Chevy to the levy ‘cause the gas tank ran dry.
Now the middle class is drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this’ll be the day that I die.
This’ll be the day that I die.
 
Now for decades we’ve been riding high,
All reaching for that piece of pie;
We could smell it, touch it, taste it too.
We all tried to live like kings and queens
In castles well beyond our means,
And CEOs grew fat on me and you.
Oh, but while we all were looking down
Employers stole our fragile crowns.
Foreclosures took our homes
‘Cause we couldn’t pay our loans.
And while board rooms called for gains “today”
They let tomorrow slip away;
Now we’re the ones who have to pay
And say the dream has died.
 
Bye-bye, Mr. Corporate Pride.
Pushed my Chevy to the levy ‘cause the gas tank ran dry.
Now the middle class is drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this’ll be the day that I die.
This’ll be the day that I die.
 
Deflected, dejected, insurance claims rejected
Health care costs are frequently inflected
Their rising and infections’ spreading fast.
We’re landing flat on our backs
As these bail-outs call for some ready cash
But the bankers, on the sidelines keep their stash.
While a stimulus is up for votes
We find ourselves in tattered coats
That can’t keep out the cold
As our lives are bought and sold.
As the workers try to get our yield,
The lenders still refuse to deal
And nothing is left for us to steal
And now the dream has died.
We are singin’
 
Bye-bye, Mr. Corporate Pride.
Pushed my Chevy to the levy ‘cause the gas tank ran dry.
Now the middle class is drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this’ll be the day that I die.
This’ll be the day that I die.
 
Oh, and pre-retirees are in last place
A working group that’s lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on, Barrack be nimble, Barrack be quick.
The economy is deathly sick
And we can’t go on; we need this thing to end.
Despite Bin Laden and his trail
We knew this country could prevail;
And then came corporate Hell.
It’s worse than terror’s spell.
When flames outshined the morning sun
A brand new era had begun;
But who knew Bin Laden could be outdone?
And now, the dream has died.
Now he’s singing
 
Bye-bye, Mr. Corporate Pride.
Pushed my Chevy to the levy ‘cause the gas tank ran dry.
Now the middle class is drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this’ll be the day that I die.
This’ll be the day that I die.
 
I went out for a bite to eat
From the local diner, down the street,
Looking forward to a slice of apple pie;
But the place was dark and empty.
I should’ve known they couldn’t stay.
When the plant shut down the town began to die.
The other shops had closed as well.
No one to buy, now no one to sell.
It’s just the way of business;
Trim some jobs, outsource the rest.
And the churches, mosques and temples, too,
Each try to tell us what to do,
But who can say just what is true
Now that the dream has died?
Now we’re singin’
 
Bye-bye Mr. Corporate Pride
Pushed my Chevy to the levy ‘cause the gas tank ran dry.
The middle class is drinking whiskey and rye
Singing this’ll be the day that I die.
This’ll be the day that I die.
 
We’re all singin’
 
Bye-bye Mr. Corporate Pride.
Pushed my Chevy to the levy ‘cause the gas tank ran dry.
The middle class is drinking whiskey and rye
Singing this’ll be the day that I die.
 

 

 

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Reviewed by Gene Williamson 2/9/2009
A beauty, Debra. Don McLean would be proud of you.
Poor old Mr. Corporate Pride has to learn how to get by
on $500,000 per. -gene.
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