PUT A BUCK IN YOUR POCKET, AND GIVE ONE TO UNCLE SAM

PUT A BUCK IN YOUR POCKET, AND GIVE ONE TO UNCLE SAM
(To the tune, “That’s One for My Baby, and One More For the Road,” by  Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer)

Set ‘em up Steve
It’s April the fifteenth, on tax filing eve
I’ve got the form here
I need a little booze to loosen the fear
For this line where it shows
How much one owes
Put me on edge, “damn”
You put a buck in your pocket,
And give one to Uncle Sam

Now don’t get me wrong
All my patriotic feelings run strong
That fervor feels nice
But wish that could feel it
For half of the price
It’s like you’d offer a meal
But not if you feel
They would hog the whole ham
You put a buck in your pocket
And give one to Uncle Sam

Where’s it all going?
The government keeps growing
It just grows and it grows
We keep on sowing
Without ever knowing
Where it all goes

 Well that does it Steve
The post office is closing
So I’ve got to leave
Thanks for the cheer
I probably will see you
This time next year
That is assuming that I’m
Not serving some time
If I get in a tax jam
Put a buck in my pocket
And give none to Uncle Sam

Put a buck in your pocket
And good luck with Uncle Sam

Lyric © 2012 by Robert S. Steinberg
All rights reserved

MONEY CAN BUY THE VOTES

MONEY CAN BUY THE VOTES
(To tune of “Money Can’t Buy Me Love,” by John Lennon and Paul McCarthy.)

Chorus

Can buy the votes
Money can buy the votes
Can buy the votes
If the people who vote are dopes

Verses:

I’ll buy me a chunk of media time
To sling-shot mud, oh well
Tell them the truth or sell them a lie?
Friend, the lie works twice as well

The fact is nobody reads the facts
So money can buy the votes

(Repeat chorus)

I know you believe that you have one vote
But I know that isn’t true
You’re brain washed and you’ll vote my way
So, really I cast your vote too

I have lots of money chumps

And money can buy the votes
(Repeat chorus)

The highest court in the land of the free
Like a thief stealing votes in the night
Made fairness an absurdity
Holding super Pac cash alright

 I have lots of money chumps
And money can buy the votes

Can buy the votes
Money can buy the votes
Can buy the votes
If the people who vote are dopes

 Lyric © 2012 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved.

SENDING NEWT OFF TO THE MOON

SENDING NEWT OFF TO THE MOON
(To tune of “Jean (Jean, Roses are Red),” by Rod McKuen)

Newt, Newt
Rooty-toot-toot
Sing your mad song like a loon
When you’re not made Pres.
Everyone says,
We’re sending Newt off to the moon

Newt, Newt
A mom would say cute
When your cheeks puff up like a balloon
If your campaign fails
No coffin and nails
We’re sending Newt off to the moon.

On the moon in a crater
He’ll capture the vote
He’ll be great for the colony
There he’ll promote

Newt, Newt
A final salute
As we blast you off with a tune
Give us, thinking fast,
One wise crack to last
We’re sending Newt off to the moon.

Lyric © by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

WHAT IS THE ROLE OF A BANK?

WHAT IS THE ROLE OF A BANK?
(To tune of, “What is This Thing Called Love?” by Cole Porter)

What is the role of a bank?
And what should be the goal of a bank?
To take in funds and measure out loans,
So business runs and folks can buy homes?

No, say some boardroom sorts
“Banks shouldn’t do that
They would play trader sports
Lest profits fall flat.”

“Impose no Volcker Rule,
No Dodd and no Frank.”
I ask, what is the role of a bank? 

Refrain:

Fat-cats with bonuses
And lobbyist shills.
Leave us where Jonas is,
And stuck with the bills

And so think for yourselves
What’s real and what’s rank?
I ask, what is the role of a bank?

Lyric © by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

THE LOBBYIST’S PRAYER

THE LOBBYIST’S PRAYER
(To tune of “My Prayer” by James Kennedy and Georges Boulanger,  recorded by The Platters)

When vote cloture draws nigh
And the pollsters start ringing
When the stakes are quite high
So the lobbyists say
Then out of the woodwork they crawl
And pray

My prayer
Is a meeting for two
Somewhere out of the way
With a Capra* plot-line

My prayer
Has some cash out of view
Nothing needed to say
Graft is simply divine

That bill
Coming up on the hill
We don’t want to pass
That this payment will kill

My prayer
And the comfort it gives
Knowing profits will soar
For as long as greed lives

Let the losers play fair
Money answers my prayer

* Frank Capra, director of the classic movie about political corruption, “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” (1939).

Lyric © 2011 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved