A Travis-ty We Can Ill Af-Ford, part II

Back in September the parody department produced a ditty on the financial meltdown. The music department, being a little slow, has only now produced the video. Enjoy

Sixteen Funds
by DMinor
(Apologies to Merle Travis, or perhaps to George S. Davis)



Some people say a man must own his own house
With two-odd kids and a trophy wife spouse --
House and wife and cars and yard
A paycheck a-week and a credit card.

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and second-hand debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.

I awoke one mornin' and the radio said,
The darn banking system had a-ended up dead.
I watched my sixteen funds of financial gold
Turn to paper junk: "Well, a-bless my soul!"

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and second-hand debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.

I awoke one mornin', in a financial pain --
Fightin' and trouble without any gain.
Rhetoric in the campaign by an Obama hack
Cain't make-a flat-broke banker give my money back.

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and second-hand debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.

All you CEOs, better step aside:
No golden parachute, if you have some pride.
Your sub-prime loans have emptied the till--
If the right wing don't a-get you
Then the left sure will!

You buy sixteen funds, what do you get?
Another man's mortgage and derivative debt.
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go;
My IRA plan's down a really big hole.