Merci, Adam Smith

Merci, Adam Smith

I’ve got more to pay out than my pocket can stand
No relief for a woman or man here in this land
Now I never called that banker my friend
But I feel I’ve been spanked by the invisible hand.

Perhaps it’s my fault that this all came to pass
But I did not declare war on the privileged class
Though they think that I’m vulgar, at best a bit crass
And they force me to kiss the invisible ass.

They say the problem is mine, right there at its root
But a normal guy would go off on a toot
When they place the blame and say that it’s moot
Who or what kicked me with an invisible boot.

I may not be bright, but I’m not all that dim
And I have a hunch that it’s not me but him
I mean Adam Smith, who worked out at the gym
And then beat me up with a mean phantom limb.

I get tired and fed up, but I never sass
When they turn their backs and release all that gas
And the odor is awful, a pungent morass
When one must keep kissing invisible ass.

I once had a job from which I was canned
Cause I did not fit in with the corporate brand
And I’ll never say that I think that they’re grand
And I’m going to bite the invisible hand.

Eulick McCreavis