Capital

“Capital that has such good reasons for denying the sufferings of the legions of workers that surround it, is in practice moved as much and as little by the sight of the coming degradation and final depopulation of the human race, as by the probable fall of the earth into the sun. In every stock-jobbing swindle every one knows that some time or other the crash must come, but every one hopes that it may fall on the head of his neighbour, after he himself has caught the shower of gold and placed it in safety. Après moi, le déluge! is the watchword of every capitalist and of every capitalist nation.” – Karl Marx (1809-1849). 
 
Spin of the wheel chips on the blaze 
Double or nothing to raise up the stakes 

I’ll buy in to play 
And fold right away 
Be on my way 
And with the 
Bluest chip 
On my shoulder 

The one armed bandit has folded his hand 
Slam on the button funds draining like sand 

I’ll buy in to play 
And fold right away 
Be on my way 
And with the 
Bluest chip 
On my shoulder 

I’m feeling blessed fortune favours the brave 
The hand that is dealt shakes me firm as the grave 

I’ll buy in to play 
And fold right away 
Be on my way 
And with the 
Bluest chip 
On my shoulder 

Spin of the wheel chips on the blaze 
Fire alight to burn up the stakes 

I’ll buy in to play 
And fold right away 
Be on my way 
And with the 
Bluest chip 
On my shoulder