Every Who down on Main Street
Liked Christmas a lot...
But the Grinches on Wall Street,
Manhattan did NOT!
They had no compunction for any old Who.
To them, it was always the season to screw
The immigrant Whatses and lower IQ.
They'd take all their presents, then take the house, too!
Now, please, don't ask why. No one admits the reason
That a bunch of sly frat boys resorted to treason.
For celestial returns running to the gazillions,
They put Cindy-Lous on the street by the millions.
It wasn't so much the fit of their shoes,
But their price, that made them bamboozle the Whos.
And their hearts, on the contrary, instead of too small,
Were three sizes too large, considering all
The booze and the stress and the thirty-dollar steaks
And the sickness inside that avarice makes.
So it wasn't the size of their hearts or their shoes
That drove them to heartlessly bamboozle Whos.
If we're to believe what we read in the news,
They created a bomb with too short of a fuse!
We may never know what extent they conspired
To suck us all dry before they retired
And a new politician had time to be hired,
Thus taking the fall for the way we are mired.
They knew there was always another buffoon,
But the scheme came unravelled a little too soon
For the retailers to reap one last mighty boon
And the Executive Grinches to shoot for the moon.
They appointed a Grinch who decided to truck it
To the top of the heap, up the side of Mt. Fuckit,
(Which is also referred to as Capitol Hill),
Where they promptly stuck Whoville with most of the bill.
Then the Grinches got an idea!
A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
Open the valves! Let that gasoline flow!
Put cash in their pockets! Watch those Whos go,
Stampeding for Who-Mart where prices are low!
What suff'ring allows it, they'll never know!
Too bent on consumption, until there's none left.
The swath of creation, debased and bereft.
Just as long as you give them their TOYS, TOYS, TOYS, TOYS!
You can always distract them with NOISE, NOISE, NOISE, NOISE!
But the Grinches apparently misfigured one thing.
That all of the baubles, the doo-dads and bling,
Don't do much to make little Who children sing,
When their skin, to their ribs, is starting to cling.
And so, with their grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Some of the Grinches to prison will go,
To wait for the day when the credit will flow
And the Whos all forget what they weren't meant to know...
That the silly Who race, which refuses to grow
Will continue to reap what they foolishly sow.
It's time for the Grinch to steal Christmas.
We really invited him in,
With a sleigh-load of mortgage-backed securities
And a sardonic, snaggle-toothed grin.
It's just as old Geisel predicted.
The greedy old bastards up there
Came slithering down here amongst us
And robbed us; and we, unaware,
Complicit, in all of our ignorance,
Just living our lives as we pleased,
Insistently voting for governance
That left us to hang in the breeze.
It's possible Christmas was destined
To be shown up for only a joke.
These poor Whos, who never had questioned,
Found it's not as much fun when you're broke!