“The Billionaire’s Paycheck”
Dedication — To the Accountants Who Are Too Scared to Count
For the ones who look at a $200 million net worth and a $223,000 salary and say, “Well, they must have had rich parents” or “The stock market is magic.” This is for the ones who think the math adds up in a country where you have to work to get a paycheck. This is for the math that doesn’t compute.
Prologue — The Screen of Greed
The glow of the TV is the only light in the room, casting a blue pallor over the living room furniture. A news anchor with a smile too wide for his face is pointing at a chart on the screen. The chart is a lie, a graphic designed to make you stop thinking and start nodding. “LAWMAKERS SALARY VS NET WORTH,” the banner reads. It shows Pelosi, McConnell, Schumer, Warren. Names you know. Faces you love to hate. They make $200,000. But their net worth? $200 million. The math is so wrong it should be illegal. The air in the room feels heavy, like the pressure before a storm. You can hear the hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock, the sound of a nation realizing it’s been played.
Nursery Rhyme — The Paycheck of the Rich
(To be sung clapping or jumping rope, light and rhythmic)
Two hundred k is what they earn,
Count it up and wait your turn.
Pennies, dollars—nice and neat,
Marching down a tidy street.
Two hundred k, now count again,
One, two, three… but where’s the ten?
Numbers jump and numbers bend,
Funny how they always win.
Two hundred k, that’s all they say,
But stacks grow taller anyway.
Round and round the numbers go…
Where they stop, we don’t know.
Poem — The Ledger of Lies
We work for our money, the rest of us know,
We clock in, we clock out, we take what we go.
We get a check, we pay our rent,
We count every dollar, we count every cent.
But them in Washington, they got a different plan,
They got a bag of tricks, they got a different fan.
They get a salary, a measly two hun,
Then they got a fortune, a bank account full of sun.
How does it happen? Where does it go?
It ain’t from the stock market, that’s a lie, it shows.
It’s from the lobbyists, it’s from the bribes,
It’s from the deals that the politicians write.
It’s from the contracts, the insider trades,
It’s from the votes that they never made.
It’s from the laws they pass to help the rich,
It’s from the tax cuts that they don’t give a shit.
It’s from the pork barrels, the cronyism,
It’s from the corruption, the pure sin.
They talk of “public service,” “public good,”
But their bank accounts scream, “We’ve got food.”
We see the numbers, we see the gap,
The math of the nation, the math that doesn’t snap.
Two hundred k, a nice sum,
But two hundred million, where does it come?
It’s the ultimate joke, the ultimate lie,
The math of the rich, the math of the lie.
Epilogue — The Silence of the Bank
The screen goes dark. The room is silent. The only sound is the hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock, the sound of a nation realizing it’s been played. The numbers don’t add up. The logic doesn’t hold. The math is broken. And the people in Washington, they don’t care. They don’t care. They’re rich. They’re rich. They’re rich.
Lullaby — Hush Now, Don’t You Count
But there is.
That sad jingle is cut short by the sound of a calculator clicking. The lullaby is a lie. Sleep is for the compliant. The quiet isn’t peace; it’s the sound of a bank account growing. The time for dreaming is over. The time for counting the cost is here.
Final Nursery Rhyme — The Audit of the Rich
(To be sung faster and louder, like a jump rope chant building to a stumble)
Two hundred k is what they claim,
Say it soft, it sounds the same.
But count it hard and count it true—
That number never made it through.
Two hundred k, now spin it fast,
Watch the small turn big real fast.
Round it up, then round some more…
Funny how it grows offshore.
Two hundred k, now here’s the trick,
Count it slow, then count it quick.
Every time you check the sum—
Something extra sneaks in some.
Two hundred k, now miss a beat,
That’s the part they don’t repeat.
Skip the line, ignore the cost…
That’s where all the truth gets lost.
So jump the rope and sing it right,
Keep it going, don’t lose sight—
If the numbers don’t agree…
Who’s the fool—you, or me?
“The only thing more impossible than a billionaire on a $200k salary is a politician who believes it themselves.“