Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Bankers

I admire those who can treat dead serious situations with cleverness and humor as Jan Lewis and the Remington Riders do with Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Bankers.

Here we all are, lip deep in the do-do and hoping for no more waves. It is a sign of inner strength to laugh at our troubles in times like these even when we know the criminals who caused it.

Frankly, I find it a bit more than flabbergasting to read report after report that clearly identifies both the crimes and criminals who have created our economic collapse while watching them not only walk free with their ill-gotten gains but continue to run our nation’s finances to their sole benefit.

Once upon a time I would not believe that United States citizens would stand for such treatment. Yet, here I am today faced with the undeniable facts of the case, as we all are.

The Remington Riders’ “A Peaceful Solution” previously impressed us with the great talent and high production values they brought to their performance. For me, one of the most memorable features of that performance was the additional lyrics they added.

In those additional lyrics the Remington Riders specifically mentioned the erosion of our Constitutional Rights, attacks upon reason, rationality and science plus just plain old lying.

To offer such strong social criticism with such style and panache achieves a high level of artistic achievement. To consistently do this in song after song as they do gives proof of personal artistic talent and marked intellectual competence.

If you enjoy Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Bankers then be sure to check out Execution Row and Battle of New Baghdad also by the Remington Riders.

Jan Lewis says, “I hope this doesn’t blow my mortgage application, but here goes.”

Jan Lewis: vocal, piano
Robert Berry: engineering, instruments
Erik Adelfred: video

Lyrics:

Chorus:
Mams, don’t let your babies grow up to be bankers
Don’t let ‘em pick pockets to make the big bucks
Let ‘em be cowboys, musicians, and such.
Mams, don’t let your babies grow up to be bankers
Cause they’ll make you a loan
And then steal your home
And everyone hates ‘em so much.

Verse:
Money ain’t easy to get and it’s harder to hold
I keep my cash in the mattress just like it was gold
Bailout and bonuses, credit default swaps, the crooks always find a new way,
If you don’t understand that, you’ll lose all your money,
And the bankers get richer each day.

They love to defraud,
They’re just crooked, oh Lord,
And everyone hates ‘em so much.

If you’re from Goldman Sachs,
I bet ya cheat on your tax,
And the bankers get richer each day.

They’ll steal you blind,
Time after time,
And the bankers get richer each day.

* * * * Artist’s Statement * * * * *

Jan Lewis writes, After nearly a decade of the biggest transfer of wealth from the middle class to the very rich, the image of taxpayer bailout money coming in the front door, while the bankers are shoveling money out the back door for huge bonuses, was so blatant that the populace is close to taking pitchforks to the street. Or to the Shareholder Meeting.

The Wall Street bankers, the so-called “masters of the universe,” have been using corrupt legal and accounting tricks to transfer money from publicly-held banks to their own personal pockets, as I see it. And now, taxpayers are told we must shell out billions of dollars to bailout an industry that has in my opinion has operated a Ponzi scheme, mismanaged other people’s money, breached their fiduciary duties to their stockholders, and used sham legal and accounting gimmicks to make it look like a legitimate business.

But the sense of entitlement on the part of these bankers is amazing. While ordinary people are losing jobs, homes, life savings, and more, due primarily to mismanagement by these “masters of the universe,” the bankers are still taking money out in the form of bonuses, trips to luxury spas, and sports event sponsorships.

Some call it mismanagement, some call it fraud.

Enough. Let’s all sing this song, all over America, and let them know what we think of them.