THE NIGHT BEFORE SQUIDMAS
Twas the night before Squidmas, when all through Goldman Squid house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a bed louse;
The bonus stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Kris Swindle soon would be there;
Bailed out banksters and traders nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of bonus booty danced in their heads;
And little Lloydie in his silly ‘kerchief with no salary cap,
Had just settled down for another long ponzi nap.
When out on Main Street there arose such a clatter,
Main Streeters were screaming why does Wall Street just get fatter and fatter?
With unemployment endemic and so many a cupboard bare.
All those cephalapod swindlers could do was just stand there and stare.
Then, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a hodgepodge of new laws threatening all they held dear,
They all thought they were bigger and better than most
But those 2Big2Fail deadbeats soon would be toast.
Then in a moment before it could all stick,
Those pinstriped extortionists emptied their stockings and took the loot quick,
And out in the distance they heard Kris Swindle exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Merry QE to Goldman, and to all squids a good-night!”