Herewith a few verses I penned while contemplating the above. It could be sung to the tune of "Sweet Betsy From Pike" (or "Charlie, The Midnight Marauder" (Limeliters).

Oh, do you remember when life was so good
That all of the bad guys lived down in the "hood,"
When real estate values were heading sky high,
And we knew that we all would be rich by and by?

But Wall Street shenanigans soon did unfold,
And began to leave you and me out in the cold,
Like mushrooms they kept us all down in the dark,
And kept feeding us bull like the plants in the park.

So many bought houses they couldn't afford
And when money gave out they just prayed to the Lord.
"Please help us, Oh Jesus, the mortgage is due."
But the Lord, he ain't payin', so it's all up to you.

In tract after tract, they hung sign after sign
That said "Repo" or "Bank Sale" or "Free Re-design."
The lawns were all brown and the plants overgrown,
If the houses could talk, I believe they'd just moan.

Your friendly old car dealer just down the street,
Was once sitting pretty in his plush driver's seat.
Now, all forlorn, he sits out in the lot,
And waits for the buyers who visit him not.

Now so many people are out of a job,
The crooks cannot find anybody to rob.
Our 401K's are now all shot to hell,
And the prospects are bleak for our grandkids as well.

When people complain, I can't understand why;
We've got the best government money can buy.
No matter on which side of the aisle they sit,
You can bet they don't care about us, not one whit!

Their nests are all feathered, their ducks in a row,
And here we all sit like trained dogs in a show.
Politicians keep saying it's going to get worse,
To justify stealing much more from your purse.

So, stand and deliver – not dollars, but letters!
And let those in office know they're not YOUR betters!
They all work for US, NOT the other way 'round,
Let's get this thing fixed, 'fore we're all run to ground.