Tag Archives: Money

The Money/Trees Quandary: A Contemporary discussion of the Fiscal and Sociological Impacts of Wild Currency

If money grew on trees
We’d see fewer thieves,
And we’d have a new perspective
On the growing of mint leaves.

If money grew on trees
The forests would be shining
And all the coins as foliage
Would cut back the need for mining.

If money grew on trees
Then natural selection
Would show us who new world leaders are
Before their big election.

If money grew on trees
Interest in forests would grow.
No one would buy stocks;
Their investments would really grow.

If money grew on trees
Fewer fires would start via smoker
And Casinos all would move outside
For better games of poker.

If money grew on trees
One question still remains
Which raises important fiscal concerns:
What happens when it rains?

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If you say “I’d save it,” you’re lying.

If I had a million bucks

I might buy a million ducks

Who would have a million ducklings

And I could watch them grow.

 

If I had a million bucks

I’d load them in a million trucks

And bring them around the country

To find their perfect doe.

 

If I had a million bucks

I’d wear a pair of diamond chucks

And a platinum pillow

For when I need to snore.

 

If I had a million bucks

In cash or deer or even ducks

I wouldn’t spend it prudently.

Perhaps that’s why I’m poor.

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Finance for Dummies

People like having money
And they like buying things,
But choose one of those passions
And the other gets lost.

Until now, that is!
Now you can live like kings
With the finest of fashions
And none of the cost!

(Trumpet Fanfare)

I present to you the credit card!
A source of endless joy
That gives you all that you desire.
Just swipe your tears away!

And if you use the whole thing up,
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!
You’ll the friendly screeching tires
Of some bankers making sure you’re okay.

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Money

Isn’t it funny

That we respect money

Although it is nothing but paper?

What I’d like to see

Is when someone like me

Realizes the loopholes of this caper.

 

It would only take one,

Buying a gift for someone,

To walk into the gift-buying store,

And hand out a bill

To the guy at the till,

And the checker asks “What is this for?”

 

“It’s money you see,”

Said a someone like me.

“Now you have to give me your stuff.”

“If that is a threat,

Out of my store you should get,”

Says the checker, and I don’t call his bluff.

 

But why would that man

In the store with the tan

Refuse to accept for his goods

This green piece of cash

That’s no better than trash

If, for instance, you’re stuck in the woods.

 

The answer to this

Is told by the myth

For children that’s called Peter Pan.

The weight money carries,

Just like “I do believe in fairies,”

Is imaginary, like a good movie by M. Night Shyamalan.

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