Ant Smith

All poems

Credit crunch

I believe Manhandelson is doing it again
I believe in truth and lies
I don't believe in Spin

Jump you bastards, said the headline
Even Ocean Finance has gone bust
Can Manhandelson save us this time,
With his creepy bony weirdy touch?

Knees up mother Brown, knees up mother Brown
Knees up, knees up, got to have a knees up
Knees up Gordon Brown

Even Ocean Finance has gone bust
Counting countless credit crunches
With his creepy bony weirdy touch.
Concertina folding futures over gourmet expensed lunches

Sing a song of six pence, pocket full of lies
The king is in his counting house, eating all the pies

Counting countless credit crunches
Funny money, dirty laundry, soiling yours, despoiling mine
Concertina folding futures over gourmet expensed lunches
Unchecked greed, is the only crime

I believe Manhandelson is doing it again
I believe in truth and lies
I don't believe in Spin

Funny money, dirty laundry, soiling yours, despoiling mine
Can Manhandelson save us this time,
Unchecked greed, is the only crime
Jump you bastards, said the headline