(Hammill)

You got some shares in a speculative venture,
you got some stock in a gilt-edged bond,
you stretched out tight by the terms of debenture,
the game is on
You chase the bulls in eternal corrida,
the thought of loss is more than you can bear,
you scan the index for a market leader,
a tip and a prayer,
You better see daylight:
night comes on the City so soon
You say you are a christian capitalist,
but you dance to a different tune
Jobs for the boys and dole for the shop-floor;
rationalize, strip the assets and run
If the contract stalls, then you've just got to cop more, ain't Monopoly fun?
You made some pretty deals along the way,
Judas and Faust are in accord
When the revolution comes you may be blown away,
but I bet you'll end up on the board

Only the money
Only the money

Sometime in the future you may realize that the day
you made your decision to follow money as a goal was
you darkest dawn--and that, since then, you have
venerated figures as deities; and, for you,
people are just pawns

But that deal includes you:
you're just an asset like the rest,
and you, too, stripped naked, beg the Money-God
not to put you to the test
He's got no further use for you
Now, there is silence on the floor

Clever money-computers chatter privately
No people any more

Only the money