The
Investor
On a warm summer's eve, in a wing of the White House,
I met with the Investor; we were both too nervous to
sleep.
So we took turns at staring at the ticker on CNN.
'Til blind greed overtook him, and he began to speak:
He said, "Son, I've made a living... out of other people's
fortunes;
Snowing their accountants... with a blinding storm
of lies.
And if you don't mind me saying, I can see you're
going bankrupt.
For a chance at stock options, I'll give you some
advice."
So I showed my portfolio, and he laughed at my transgressions.
Then he took his cellphone out, and traded with delight
And the night got deathly quiet, his face lost all expression.
"If you're gonna make a fortune, boy, you gotta do
more wrong than right."
Chorus:
"You gotta know when to hide facts, know when to dodge
tax.
Know where the offshores are; don't tell no one.
You never count stock options, when you tally up expenses.
There'll be time enough for counting, when your fortune's
won."
" 'Cause each investor knows the secret to survival
Is knowing when to cover up, knowing when to lie.
'Cause for every single winner, there's at least a
million losers.
And the best that you can hope for is a golden parachute."
When he finished speaking, he turned back towards the
ticker.
Turned off his cell phone, shredded several sheets.
And somewhere in the darkness, the Investor was indicted.
And in his final words, I found an option I could keep.
"You gotta know when to hide facts, know when to dodge
tax.
Know where the offshores are; don't tell no one.
You never count stock options, when you tally up expenses.
There'll be time enough for counting, when your fortune's
won."
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