Baron of Business

As you sit on top of the world In your comfy swivel chair And recline in luxury In a world that’s so unfair You distract from the aching reality Until it's no longer there When the crack and heroin Take you elsewhere You forget how many workers Are still in management Or how many were lost In that rainbow trout accident Those fortunate to live Are back at work again Each day and the next Is like the last again You pay for go carts And dance parties downstairs To keep the help in line When the smart ones drum up swears They never learn what to concern From training or days past So, when work is over They don’t get to leave last The meek ones never notice Yet them you must occupy With raves and pillow fights To mask every lie Those fortunate to live Are back at work again Each day and the next Is like the last again Smarter ones make friends And group to conspire Then scaffolders are gone On their third day of hire At least they stopped screaming Scaring the sheep down there But now the sheep are fed And hop without a care Days after they rave and dance No need for another shill As you mask the murders and shipment In Teriyaki, Apple, and Dill Those fortunate to live Are back at work again Each day and the next Is like the last again But how do you live with it Your own people being sold And those who don’t comply Served to your workers, cold Swirled together in a melting pot We don’t see their faces Their agonized screams Drown in large baboon bases Henry tastes like Apple butter And Tom like the new Banana But who remembers them now? Tom’s loving widow, Ana Those fortunate to live Are back at work again Each day and the next Is like the last again You money grubbing monster Sitting on your office chair Sipping chardonnay And looking everywhere For budgets to cut or employees to fire Because greed and power consumed you And you find the spending dire But that’s still nothing new How does no one know? How are you still free? You should be in jail boss For the death and treachery Those fortunate to live Are back at work again Each day and the next Is like the last again Your scheme is getting old And your other slaves will soon see The error of your ways And the money, hopefully Drug cartels weren’t enough So, you ‘promote’ your other men And lie to their families With a week old ‘incident’ I want to tell the world That our branding ‘substitute’ Isn’t margarine or oil But the fat of workers I knew I wasn’t fortunate enough to live But I’ll never work again I called the FBI So this won’t happen again