The Inivisible Hand

The invisible hand that rocks the cradle Also rocks the grave The invisible hand of Smith’s fable From a poor hand many gave Sow the seed of greed Young indeed For this is no ordinary cow feed But that which makes guttersnipes bleed They suck from those that are dry They profit even when you die Away black fly away Your vices I cannot say For God would think: “I should shrink And kick your **** today” Charlotte says away But for pork you stay “After he’s done Put ‘em in a bun And squash that spider today” “Puppet master of death Give me one more breath I wish to be merry Before the Styx ferry And be buried with my wealth” The hand is an apparition But this is a superstition For real men drain their pockets in vain To those in position