"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 :)

Comments

  1. 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

    ReplyDelete
  2. 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

    ReplyDelete
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