Come to me ye minions
and I will sell you smoke and fog;
allow you to bathe in my fountains of oil;
and free you from the far madding mob.
Come tell me your opinions
from your position in the bog.
I will reward your loyalty and toil,
cheating you out of your money and your job.
Profit is my motive.
I have no other course.
Your coins are my sacred votive.
Your weakness is my force.
In the fields and in the city,
the crops and buildings burn.
Your misfortune is a pity,
but none of my concern.