Banks

Banks I stare each day at my available balance And I wish I had more in the pot I feel as if I’m under constant surveillance By the hierarchy, who know what I’ve got They’re waiting to pounce and I know it They want to smuggle my funds away They want to increase their pension and profit And charge me a penalty each and every day But still they offer me a card or a loan With rates of interest way above the base Wanting to cut my finances to the bone And help me lose my car, my house and my face We’re here to help, they tell you A friend who’ll always be by your side But all they want is your indebted soul And hunt you until there’s nowhere to hide So, bankers; hats off to your enterprise And all the good- you say you do? But I’ll keep my money under the bed And make sure I never give a penny to you. David Cox