Thursday, September 18, 2008 2 comments

"The Markets They Are A-Changin'"

Found the following song lyrics set to Bob Dylan's The times they are a-changin'. I don't agree with the full lyrics but it's well done so I'm reproducing it here. If you are not familiar with the original song by Bob Dylan, check out the song on YouTube. (For those not familiar, Bob Dylan is an American rock & roll musician and is considered to be one of the most influential of all time. His most famous song is Like a rolling stone (youtube link here).)

Posted by williambanzai7 in the comments on the NYT DealBook blog for the entry Henry Paulson's Frakenstein. I assume he/she is also the author of the modified lyrics. Reproduced without permission.

The Markets They Are A-Changin’
(to the melody by Bob Dylan; posted by williambanzai7)

Come gather round ‘bankers’
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be told to go home
If your job to you
Is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like the DOW
For the markets they are a-changin’.

Come hedgefunds and bear traders
Who prophesize and sell short
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the markets still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who
That it’s namin’
For the markets they are a-changin’.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s financial meltdown outside
And it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the markets they are a-changin’.

Come Central Bankers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Those derivative books
Are beyond your command
The old road is
Rapidly agin’
Please get out Bernanke and Paulsen
If you must bail them out out
For the markets they are a-changin’.



BTW, I actually don't think the markets are changing... what is happening is what has happened and will happen... but I like the creativity that went into the song adaptation :)

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2 Response to "The Markets They Are A-Changin'"

Anonymous
September 20, 2008 at 12:13 PM

MONEY FOR NOTHING--RESIDENTIAL MORTGAGE BACKED SECURITIES
(to the Melody of Money for Nothing by Dire Straits)
Adapted by WilliamBanzai7


I want my, I want my RTC
I want my, I want my RTC

Now look at them yo-yos thats the way you do it
Shovelin CDOs on CNBC
That aint workin thats the way you do it
Money for nothin-- asset backed securities
Now that aint workin thats the way you do it
Lemme tell ya them guys aint dumb
Maybe get a blister on your little finger
A blister from your Blackberry

[Chorus]
We gotta securitize more subprime products
Custom derivatives--OTC
We gotta move these toxic tranches
We gotta screw Moody's, S&P

See the little maggot in the pinstripes and suspenders
Yeah buddy that ain't his own hair
That little maggot got his own jet airplane
That little maggot hes a Billionaire

[Chorus]
We gotta securitize more subprime products
Custom derivative origination fees
We gotta move these toxic tranches
We gotta screw those GSEs

I shoulda learned about structured products
I shoulda learned to be a quant
Look at that mama, she got it stickin in the squawk box
Man we could have some fun
And hes up there, whats that? hawaiian noises?
Hes bangin on the bongoes like Ben Bernanke
That aint workin thats the way you do it
Get your money for nothin-- asset backed securities

[Chorus]
We gotta securitize more subprime products
Custom derivatives---S.P.I.V.s
We gotta move these toxic tranches
We gotta screw the monos and AIG,

Listen here, that aint workin thats the way you do it
Shoveling CDOs on CNBC
That aint workin thats the way you do it
Money for nothin--asset backed securities
Money for nothin--asset backed securities

I want my, I want my RTC
I want my, I want my RTC

September 30, 2008 at 1:02 PM

RETURN TO DESOLATION ROW
(to the Melody of Desolation Row, Bob Dylan)
WilliamBanzai7

They're selling dark postcards of Wall Street
They're painting passbooks black
The air is filled with busted banker dread
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind SEC commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the FBI they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady luck and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Bailout Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Wall Street Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the town car limo goes
Is Bailout Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row

Now the market moon is almost hidden
The economic stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Paulson and Bernanke
And the lame hunchback of Pennsylvania Avenue
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting black market rain
And good old Warren, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row

Now Dick Fuld, he's 'neath the window
For him I feel so afraid
On his sixty-second birthday
He is just an old Wall Street maid
To him, market death is quite romantic
He wears a pinstripe vest
His profession's his religion
Sins of greed yet to be confessed
And though his eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
He spends his time peeking
Into Desolation Row

That "Maestro" Greenspan, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a seedy Wall Street skunk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the greek alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the free market violin
On Desolation Row

Dr. Bernanke, he keeps his world
Inside a Federal tin cup
But all his terminal patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the subprime hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on their Souls"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row

On the Street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Markets
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoon feeding Hank Paulson
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with their con men skills
After poisoning him with their wily shills
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Paulson's is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"

Now at midnight the GOP led by McCain
And their subhuman neocon crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the market kerosene
Is brought down from their grand old castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row

Praise be Roubini's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"
And Elephant and Donkey Men
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the crashing market sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

Yes, I received the bullish newsletter
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how my net was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more newsletters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row

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