I cornered the market on bitter and poor,
so all my sorrows are richer than yours.
I invested in depression before the crash,
so all my anguish was turned into cash.
I looted and laundered my assets off,
so all my possessions are never enough.
I bankrupted morally upstanding friends,
so all my means justify my dividends.
I converted to metric, electric, and Christ,
so all my sins are competitively priced.
I betrayed the trust that was funding my college,
so all my transactions are cheap and dishonest.
I saved all my grudges, the interest builds quickly,
so all my dough’s riding on this 50/50:
the odds that God knows that I can’t take it with me.