This is the age in which business rules,
And those who resist, they are labeled as fools
Or they’re crushed and they’re killed, and we rarely will know,
For if you are heard, then away you will go.
This is the age in which business is king,
And the praises of business, the worshippers sing,
For business is blessed as the work of the Lord,
And those who defy Him, He smites with his sword.
So yes, in this age, it is Business that’s God.
And woe will betide those who think that is odd.
The priests of Big Business are pouring the wine
And chanting their paeans to Business, Divine.
But yet, it’s the mother who nurses her spawn,
And yet, it’s the father who rises at dawn.
And would there be business if workers would shirk?
And would there be wealth if it weren’t for work?
And see, it’s the students and teachers who strive
To learn and to teach what is needed to drive
The engines of business. The drivers of wealth
Are the workers who work till they’re failing in health.
And then they’re disposed of. They’re useful no more.
For a job that’s now vacant, you can pick from a score
Who are needing a job, who’ve been fed and been taught
By their parents and teachers, too often for naught.
But the needs of Big Business cannot be ignored.
For the cash that it offers, our selves, we have whored.
And we’re sending our children to school to be schooled,
But in what, is the question, for the ones who’ve been fooled.
We’re racing, we’re racing. The president says
We must race from our births to the ends of our days,
Competing, competing with the nations of Earth,
With our brothers and sisters in the land of our birth.
Prosperity, jobs and the dream! We progress!
Never mind that we live in a god-awful mess!
We shall clean up our corner and sock it away.
For the dollar’s what matters. We hear and obey.
For this is the age in which Business is Christ,
Muhammad and Moses. The bigger Its heist,
The more is Its Glory. We’re soldiers of God.
And our God, it is Business! And it isn’t so odd…
For the God our ancestors had worshipped was seen
As the Lord who did rule in the realms unseen,
As the lords of the land did then rule over those,
Who were peasants and led by the ring through the nose.
As the cattle were led, as the bullocks were worked,
So the peasants were led, and the ones who then shirked
Would be punished. And those, who delivered their shares
To the lords of the land would then live to have heirs.
So we’re bred to be docile and to bow to our lords,
And we’re bred to be warlike and to battle with swords
For the sake of our rulers, so that rulers have wealth,
While we work all our lives till we’re failing in health.
And so now it is “Business” that is served as religion,
And it’s “Owners” who’re bowed to. We’re in their dominion.
So hail to Big Business, to the Mighty, who own!
And we, who are workers, from labors will groan.
And that is but fitting, as the Social Darwinians
Have preached, so convincing the laboring minions.
So the Hindus had castes, and with each in its rung,
They could stand on each other, while hymnals were sung.
Oh praise to the ladders that humans have wrought,
With the workers at bottom, in their laboring caught,
While the ones who are smarter are climbing the stairs
By stepping on others – and putting on airs!
Oh a suit and a tie, it will serve you much more
Than the time that you spend on the detail, the chore.
And the more that you hang with the suits, you will find
That the chores and the details are best out of mind.
For that is the work of the workers, my friends!
So leave that to workers, who work till their ends.
It is best if you leave that to workers and strive
To climb up the ladder, until you arrive.
But even the ones, at the top, they can see
There are others, who’re climbing – the top-dogs, to be.
So they buy them and kick them, and also ensure
That the ones at the bottom are kept there for sure.
For it’s all about profit, and the less that is paid
To the workers, the more, of that profit, is made.
So the workers are needed, but are kept in their place,
And they’re prodded to buy things and step up the pace.
For it’s labor and markets that are needed, you see.
For what, with no labor, would a businessman be?
And who, without markets, would line up to buy
The things and the services workers supply?
If the worker is working and buying as well,
Then the business is booming and everything’s swell.
But the ones, who’re contented with this are the ones
Who don’t know the power of wheelers and guns.
For it’s all about power – and wealth and its growth.
And those, who’re content, they’ll be losing them both.
So expansion, expansion, is what is then needed.
More markets, more labor – but labor, defeated.
Oh hail to the Capital, essence of all,
That giant that towers and grows yet more tall.
And some call it Mammon and some call it greed.
But those call it Capital, who know it indeed.
And all that feeds Capital, cunning and shrewd,
Is worthy of worship, with essence imbued
That’s sacred and holy. And that is the creed
Professed by the Owners, who are ruling indeed.
So hail to Big Business, to the Owners, who’re great.
It’s time for the lowly to get used to their fate.
And if they are smarter, their climbing, they’ll start,
Adroitly and early – for climbing’s an art.
For this is the age of the Businessmen, oh!
And remember, advancers, I’ve told you it’s so.
To the ones, who’re not climbers, be ruthless, my friends.
Remember, the means do not count – it’s the ends.
And the start and beginning is profit. The dollar
Is what you should focus on. Let the mob holler.
For they are just cattle, to be prodded and poked,
To be herded to slaughter, with Business invoked.
Big Business is King. It is Queen, it is God!
And death to the ones who consider this odd!
For this is the age of the Businessmen, oh!
So either be Owner, or be C.E.O.!
2014 May 3, Sun., 7:06 pm Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York