John Maynard Keynes

John Maynard Keynes

“The extraordinarily pernicious and malignant figure”

—Murray Rothbard

John Maynard Keynes was a terrible shit.

John Maynard Keynes was a bitch.

Let’s toss off a bumper to John Maynard Keynes,

With his walk like a stork and his head full of brains,

Who made himself filthily rich.

John Maynard Keynes was a snob and a shit.

Did he know? Yes he did. Did he care? Not a bit.

He could scratch where the world had an itch.

John Maynard Keynes made a fortune in stocks

And lost it again in the crash.

But he finished up richer, did John Maynard Keynes,

And he rode round in limos, not buses or trains,

With a thumping great wallet of cash.

John Maynard Keynes made a fortune in stocks

And he stayed in the game when the ship hit the rocks,

With a suitcase of gold in his stash.

John Maynard Keynes ruled the roost up at King’s,

Where the world came to sit at his feet.

So he told them a tale, did this John Maynard Keynes,

And they swallowed it whole, silly sheep, plat and plain,

Giving scarcely a contrary bleat.

John Maynard Keynes was the King up at King’s.

As a class they kiss arse, it’s just one of those things

With an upper-crust ruling elite.

John Maynard Keynes was the cock of the walk

Where he strutted with birds of a feather

He dreamed up a palace, did John Maynard Keynes.

But it shimmered and fell. You can see the remains,

And there’s no-one to  put it together.

John Maynard Keynes was the cock of the walk

He could smile like a shark and, Lord, how he could talk,

But his talk couldn’t alter the weather.

John Whitworth