By Jane Celeste the Pest
Bernie made-off with a stash
Of his trusting investors’ cash
But now justice may have come
They've incarcerated the bum
And he’s wishing he could make a dash.
Bernie expressed his regret
One day in jail has made him fret
No Rolex or no yacht
Just a stainless steel pot
Things won’t get much better, not yet.
You must show us the money
No 67 million for your honey
You stole from your friends
And must make amends
Others futures are now not so sunny
While he’s lounging in jail
Getting tons of hate mail
The Feds audit his books
Thinking there were more crooks
In the scam and there must be a trail.
Where did the fifty billion go?
Banks in Switzerland? Curacao?
It’s time to confess
Let’s have some justice
There is plenty of room at Gitmo.
Of his trusting investors’ cash
But now justice may have come
They've incarcerated the bum
And he’s wishing he could make a dash.
Bernie expressed his regret
One day in jail has made him fret
No Rolex or no yacht
Just a stainless steel pot
Things won’t get much better, not yet.
You must show us the money
No 67 million for your honey
You stole from your friends
And must make amends
Others futures are now not so sunny
While he’s lounging in jail
Getting tons of hate mail
The Feds audit his books
Thinking there were more crooks
In the scam and there must be a trail.
Where did the fifty billion go?
Banks in Switzerland? Curacao?
It’s time to confess
Let’s have some justice
There is plenty of room at Gitmo.
No comments:
Post a Comment