Bernie Madoff's Blues

by Daniel Thomas Moran

They left me not a dollar bill,
for me to make my bail.
Now the Judge he dares to pay me back,
with a hundred-fifty years in jail.

I decided I would make a buck,
then I thought I might make two.
Before I knew it, I had ten houses,
some lovely yachts to ride in too.
I worked real hard for that fifty billion,
who knew the price of houses might decline?
If I had to do it all again,
I would have retired with forty-nine.

Ten-thousand dollar suits of clothes,
Two dozen pair of thousand-dollar shoes.
Who thought there would be such kvetshn,
over fleecing rich old Jews.
I never imagined I could sleep so good,
in a bed with a Park Avenue address.
After all I’m only God in a land where the masses,
worship at the altar of success.

So go easy on me, Your Honor,
and all you members of the Fourth Estate.
Being an inmate will hurt my feelings bad,
already, being poor is not feeling great.
Don’t hate me for doing better,
doing the things that Money Barons do.
If I’d managed one good looking son,
there would’ve been a President Madoff too.

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