I had a dream the other night,
It really gave me quite a fright;
The IMF came ‘round to call,
To say my spending had to fall.
“You’re daft,” I cried, “I’m Mr. Big,”
It’s me for whom the rules are rigged;
No one can tell me what to do,
It’s me who calls the shots for you.”
“Dear Sam,” they said, “you’ve drained the well;
You’ve bought much more than what you sell;
You’ve lost your way, you’ve gone astray,
And now’s the day you gotta pay.”
To get my buy and sell a’meshin’,
They forced me into deep recession;
And while I took this nasty gaffing,
Them foreigners just kept on laughing.
Their laughter sounded cruel and mean,
I moaned—then woke up from my dream;
“‘Tis but a dream,” I sighed, “that’s all,”
Got up and drove off to a mall.
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