The Ballad of Swanky Sweet

The Life of an Idle White Privileged Socialite
Well buoyed By Daddy's cash
Debutant of Nouveaux White Trash
Tis the tale of Swanky Sweet
A more privileged Maiden
You'll never meet

Husband is a cuckold putz
Convict father is quite the yutz
Just like father, just like son
New York con men on the run

They say that power doth corrupt
All their riches never enough
Empty souls in dire need
A sty of pigs slopped in greed

Chorus
Just like Scrooge
They count their coins
Line their pockets
Grease their loins

But unlike Dear Uncle Scrooge
There's no remorse,
No accounting
For this stinking brood

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