Friedman’s Folly

Lyrics

A meager man not born from wealth With teeth too bright to trust Held out a nail, said "This is gold- If you believe, you must."

The Bent gave wood, the Bent gave flame They gave him all they grew He smiled and stirred the rising steam And said, "This feeds us too."

But the nail was his The bowl was his The price was what he named The Bent built all But owned no part And he forgot their names

And so the trade began The pot grew full, then fuller still The Bent were growing thin He sold them back their portioned hope And said, "That's how we win."

But the nail was his The bowl was his The price was what he named The Bent built all But owned no part And he forgot their names

Now gold spoons scrape on empty steel No hands are left to serve You can't eat yield You can't drink growth You can't take what was never yours

The nail remains The pot is cold The Bent are bone and breath You called it wise But it was greed- And now there's nothing left to feed