Missed the Complete Lyrics to this Year’s Financial Follies? Check Them Out Here

The Final Meltdown

To the tune of The Final Countdown by Europe

 

FANS:

He’s our superhero
The real Iron Man
But one thing he’s lacking
Is attention span

 

MUSK:

Where are the aliens? Really odd that we see no sign of them.

FANS:

His Trump-like gaslighting must stop
The midnight tweets (midnight tweets)
We need him to build some frickin’ cars

It’s the final meltdown
The final meltdown

 

MUSK:
Funding secured.

 

FANS:

Oh

I ordered a Tesla
Been waiting for years
Still stuck on my Vespa
While he’s in arrears
He’s some kind of shrewd psychopath
And that’s why we sing
(why we sing)

This song from a dumb Geico ad

It’s the final meltdown

 

MUSK:
Going to create a site where the public can rate the core truth of any article.

 

FANS:

The final meltdown
 

MUSK:
… Thinking of calling it Pravda …
 

FANS:
The final meltdown

 

FANS:
The final meltdown

 

It’s the final meltdown

 

MUSK:

How much time does a woman want a week? Maybe 10 hours?

FANS:

The final meltdown

 

MUSK:

That’s kind of the minimum? I don’t know.

 

FANS:
It’s the final meltdown
 

MUSK:

A kid-sized submarine.
 

FANS:
The final meltdown

 

MUSK:
These questions are so dry. They’re killing me.

 

SELL IT NOW

To the tune of Feel it Still by Portugal
 

Can’t keep my home for myself

Think I’ll cut the price,

move it quickly off the shelf
In case some very rich guy is in need
Are they coming out of left field?

Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee now
I been wanting to move since Two Thousand Six, now
Tri-state home writeoffs now, almost over, still

Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee now
Moving south in few months, maybe six now
Low state and local taxes, gladly pay ‘em still

Gotta lot of mouths to feed
Low tri-state home tax deduction hurts home-owners in need
I’m gone with the falling leaves
Some rich buyer coming out of left field?

 

Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
I been wanting to move since Two Thousand Six, now
I had my taxes fill… my wallet feels it still.

Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
Gotta move to Texas in the six months, now
Low taxes call, and I feel it still

 

Oh, yeah! Sell the Greenwich house for cheap now
Go for easy Southern living
Goodbye tristate hopes and dreams
Start flipping for my enemies
We could sell condos ‘til the walls come down
Oh, yeah!  Sell the Greenwich house for cheap now

I’ll give you a little tip
Don’t be in the middle man!

Don’t buy ‘til it sells
Don’t bother me
No more buying 
‘Til lower taxes 
No more buying
‘Til lower taxes 
No more buying
No more taxes now

Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
It’s a money sink

I can’t deduct the tax now
Tri-state’s over now,

but I pay it still 

Ooh, I’m a high tax refugee, now
Hope to sell the house number six, now
I’ve had my fill,

please someone buy it still

 

#MeToo Medley

To the tune of Mister Cellophane by John Kander & Fred Ebb &
Hit ‘Em Up Style by Blu Cantrell

 

MEN:

If someone said he liked your dress
And you ignored him nonetheless
And he said again how great you look
You’d welcome it

 

If someone came up from behind
Said, “Babe, I can read your mind”
Touched your hand and rubbed your neck
You’d welcome it

 

Or let’s say you stayed in the same hotel
And he sent you a bottle of chilled Moselle

Then showed up in a bathrobe slightly loose
Would you call that sexual abuse?

 

WOMEN:
While he was flirting

I was skirting his advances diverting

All the while I was anxious and hurting

Till I found a better way to lock down those roving hands

See, I went

To file a lawsuit charging sex harassment

With twenty counts of “repulsive attraction”

And when his lawyer called I turned down one hundred K

 

(oops) There goes his corner with a view

(oops) There goes his office barbeque

(oops) There goes his parking space

‘cause he victimized me

And that’s for that now         

 

(oops) There goes his smarmy little smile

(oops) There goes his subterfuge and his style

(oops) For all his cheating style

This makes it worthwhile

 

Hey ladies

When the perv want to reconcile

Say hell no and put him on trial

Put your motions in motion

And give it like he gave it

File affidavits

 

Oh, make your claims of gross turpitude

When he claims he was just misconstrued

Yeah, you better let him know

That if he gets cute

You’re gonna file a suit

 

ALL MEN:

Vilified,

Yes, and demonized

We’ve been stigmatized,

Now we’re ostracized

When all we want’s to meet you

You scream #MeToo

 

We never get one kiss

Yes we’ve been Weinstein-ized

Yes and Lauer-ized

We’ve been Charlie-ized

Now we’re Keillor-ized

When all we want’s to meet you

You scream #MeToo

We never get one kiss

 

WOMEN:
While he’s molestin’

Be recording on your phone and protestin’

Call up H.R. and request an assessment

You better make sure that horndog is on a leash.

 

Call the Times

Get an interview on CNN

For a special on disgraceful men

The job he had just fades away, away.

 

WOMEN:
(oops) There goes his virtuous repute

(oops) There goes his golden parachute

(oops) There goes that big galoot

‘cause he mortified me

And that’s for that now

 

(oops) There goes that nasty neck massage

(oops) In the company garage

(oops) ‘Cause he self-sabotaged

That’s just how it goes

 

MEN:
Suppose this suitor was your boss

Just trying to put his point across

Without his wife and kids involved

You’d welcome it

 

Suppose upon your job review

You’d get an extra point or two

For flashing me one little smile

You’d welcome it

 

To sum up, ladies,

This is our lament

About our well-intentioned compliments

We get the reputation for our works

As dunderheaded

Womanizing

Total jerks.

 

Gave you candy canes

Wrapped in cellophane

When all we want’s to meet you

You scream #MeToo

We never get one kiss

 

WOMEN:
Hey ladies

When the perv wants to reconcile

Say hell no and put him on trial

Put your motions in motion and give it like he gave it

File affidavits

 

Oh, make your claims of gross turpitude

When he claimes he was just misconstrued

Yeah, you better let him know

That if he gets cute

You’re gonna file suit

 

MEN:
Yes, we’ve been Weinstein-ized

Yes, and Lauer-ized

We’ve been Charlie-ized

Now we’re Keillor-ized

When all we want’s to meet you

You scream #MeToo

We never get one kiss

Never

Even

Got

 

WOMEN:
All my ideals and hope

Undermined by this dope

What happened to the days when

We used to trust each other

 

Now all his furtive gropes

Are under a fat microscope

Now I hope he goes to prison

‘cause to end his injustice

Is better than cash

 

Hey ladies

When the perv wants to reconcile

Say hell no and put him on trial

Put your motions in motion and give it to him like he gave it

File affidavits

 

Oh make your claims of gross turpitude

When he claims he was just misconstrued

Yeah, you better let him know

That if he gets cute

You’re gonna file a suit

 

Hey ladies

When the perv wants to reconcile

Say hell no and put him on trial

Put your motions in motion and give it to him like he gave it

File affidavits

 

Oh make your claims of gross turpitude

When he claims he was just misconstrued

Yeah, you better let him know

That if he gets cute

You’re gonna file a suit

 

Condos by The Ocean

To the tune of Cake by the Ocean by DNCE

 

Oh…

Hey fool!

Spending all your money on your missiles

Don’t you wanna be like me, a mogul?

Do a deal with me and it will bankroll your rule.

Hah.

Wasting time with the atom bomb,

don’t waste time with the atom bomb, ha

You should be dealing with me,

you should be dealing with me

Oh, We can meet in Singapore for a flashy photo-op

Oo, We don’t even need a peace treaty,

it can all be a fantasy

Deal with me, baby

I’m gonna make you rich off your beaches, whoa

Just let me put some spas in your gulags

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

Deal with me, baby

I’ll get ratings, you’ll get casinos, whoa

Just let me put some spas in your gulags

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

 

Hey son

See your people standing at attention

Wish I had that kind of admiration

I’m tired of my loser Constitution,

Jong Un, oh

 

Wasting time with the atom bomb,

don’t waste time with the atom bomb, ha

You should be dealing with me,

you should be dealing with me, oh

We can meet in Singapore for a flashy photo-op, oo

We don’t even need a peace treaty,

it can all be a fantasy

Whoa

 

Deal with me, baby

I’m gonna make you rich off your beaches, whoa

Just let me put some spas in your gulags

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

Deal with me, baby

I’ll get ratings, you’ll get casinos, whoa

Just let me put some spas in your gulags

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

 

Oh ah

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

Oh ah

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

We’re so seditious…

Talk to me, Kim

 

Deal with me, baby

I’m gonna make you rich off your beaches, whoa

Just let me put some spas in your gulags

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

Deal with me, baby

I’ll get ratings, you’ll get casinos, whoa

Just let me put some spas in your gulags

Ah ya ya ya ya ya

I keep on hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

 

We could get the Nobel Peace prize with the deal

Obama, he got one, so this should be a steal

We could get the Nobel Peace

Ya ya ya ya ya

I keep hoping we’ll build condos by the ocean

 

 

PUERTO RICO

To the tune of Despactio by Luis Fonsi

BANKERS:

Ay 
Palm trees! 
Trustees! 
Oh
Oh no, oh no

Oh
Oh yeah
De-li-de-li-de-li-de-linquent

Go! 

Look, trust us that we cherish your tropical colony

We come from a little island, too

Manhattan

Hey, too bad about your infecundous economy

Looks like there’s some interest overdue

 

Oh

When, when punters wet their pants for Puerto Rico bonds

High-grade, triple-tax-free and with a fabulous yield 

Bought our Maseratis with the underwriting fees

Oh yeah
Now, now your bad luck,

you owe seventy billion bucks

Which, of course, is more than you could ever pay

All your goodwill ain’t worth a steaming pile of feces
Despacito 

 

PUERTO RICANS

Cut, cut. Stop the music. You ladrones stole our money and now you’re stealing our song? Who do you think you are, Justin Bieber?

 

BANKERS:

We can help you with your little bankruptcito

We know how to deal with cash emergencitos

We’re the brains, you’re the debtor in “el possessionito”

 

Despacito 

Words turns into Spanish just by adding –ito

When we are in San Juan we drink mojito-itos

And look out for the Zika from the infected ‘squitos

(ito, ito, ito, ito, ito)

 

Here in brief is how we scammed you

Sorry but we had to 

When everything went swiftly southward

No one else would buy our issues

(buy our issues, buy our issues, baby)

That’s when we sold them to you,

the dopes of Puerto Rico

Sold you on the need for safety

Although we knew they were hella shaky

 

PUERTO RICANS
Pendejos! That’s our retirement! Give us our money back!

 

BANKERS:

Your complaining is faintly ridiculous

Our legality’s meticulous

Foxy, yes, but we’re not villainous

Don’t be jiving as if we’re Caligulas

PREPA, PRASA, GDB,

Cofina and G.O. bond, bond 
PREPA, PRASA, GDB,

Cofina and G.O. bond, bond 

A stormy kind of romance with a whirlwind named Maria

FEMA, FEMA, FEMA ain’t coming and you’re eating wet tortillas 

You keep calling D.C.

They say wait until mañana

You’ve been treated worse than our pet iguana

 

PUERTO RICANS
Yeah, you noticed?

BANKERS

Not our problem!

 

Deadbeato, deadbeato,

bankrupt, bankruptcito 

You can’t even pay for a cold cuchifrito 

So you’ve been surviving on aspirin and breadfruit

While the attorneys and bankers are trying to get cute

 

Deadbeato, deadbeato, bankrupt, bankruptcito 

You can’t even pay for a cold cuchifrito 

‘though you got Promesa, we ain’t Mother Theresa 
Relief for San Juan is slower than a glacier

 

Despacito

Words turn into Spanish just by adding –ito

When we are in San Juan we drink mojito-itos

And look out for the Zika from infected ‘squitos

(ito, ito, ito, ito, ito)

 

Here in brief is how we scammed you

Sorry but we had to 

When everything went swiftly southward

No one else would buy our issues (buy our issues, buy our issues, baby)

That’s when we sold them to you,

the dopes of Puerto Rico

Sold you on the need for safety

Although we knew they were hella shaky

Despacito

 

PUERTO RICANS
Yanquis, go home!

 

BANKERS:

This is how we do it down in Puerto Rico
Taking guidance from the M.D.’s on Wall Street

Going by the model in our little spreadsheet

 

PUERTO RICANS:

Wall Street-o, Wall Street-o,

money’s your libido

You are headed toward a complete-o, defeat-o

While we enlisted in Army 
You chose Princeton, Yale, and Harvard

Elite-o, elite-o,
money’s your libido

You are headed for a complete-o, defeat-o

 

ALL:

Bankruptcy is warfare wholly
As this ordeal unwinds slowly, slowly
Despacito

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