Verse And Worse

Random Wit, Errant Rhyme. Not A Literary Crime

In the money pits of Wall Street

The big boys all have itchy feet

As fortunes have been lost and traded

The "experts" are well and truly jaded

Verse And Worse

Random Wit, Errant Rhyme. Not A Literary Crime

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker

I pray that your stockbroker ain’t a risk-taker

Tell me you haven’t torn your inheritance asunder

As the Footsie and Wall Street both went under