There Was a Young Man Who Swallowed His Pride


There was a young man who swallowed his pride,
His bank account was in a hell of a bind,
Credit cards had been all denied,
Perhaps he’ll die.


He came to my office late in the night,
Explaining to me his financial plight,
I asked, “You know what you’re agreeing to, right?”
“Do you lack any kind of foresight?”


The kid claimed the plan was ideal,
No one would know of his gambling ordeal,
Not even to his wife would he reveal,
That he and a mob boss had made a deal.


I gave him the cash that he needed so bad,
On the condition that he’d meet my demands,
To give me a slice of each pie he had,
From selling the jewels in the store he manned.


At first he was prompt with my check by Sundays,
It wasn’t long before they slipped into Mondays,
Then there was nothing through the month of May,
I came for a visit, much to his dismay.


“Kid,” I said, “we had an agreement,
“Your payments have been far too infrequent,
“I don’t care much for the silent treatment,
“Cross me again and I’ll have you in pieces!”


You can’t tell me I didn’t warn the guy,
The one who robbed me and brushed me aside,
Even after our talk, there was no reply,
Perhaps he’ll die.