Christmas With Scrooge
On my street there are many MacMansions
Full of stuff but not many grandsons
No pets with dirty feet
Just black balance sheets
And morality they have abandoned.
These nouveau riche Ole moneyed Scrooges
Have dinner talk of subterfuges
The poor they abhor
Not a tear on that score
No mangers please, they’ll take cruises.
No room in the Inn “Oh my what a sin”
Said the bankers foreclosing within
No bed for the King?
The streets just the thing
Perhaps the liberals will let Him in?
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