Another Arons and Stratton song I want to introduce is ”Capitalist Boss.” It is one of the gems of the pre-World War II progressive movement, but it never achieved the popularity it deserved, partly because of the difficulty of the lyrics. Listen, and you’ll see what I mean.

Capitalist Boss (1937)
Lyrics by Saul Arons
Music by Mike Stratton

Introduction:

I'm the much-maligned capitalistic boss --  
Every night upon my bed, I toss -- 'cause  
With all the money I've got,  
If you think I'm happy, I'm not --  
For I love my workers a lot --  
Yet I treat them so -- Oh, I don't know --  
I'm really good at heart --  
But something is tearing me wide apart

.  
I am only human,  
Even as you and you. (Taddy-ah, boom, boom.  Taddy-ah, boom)  
And I cannot help it,  
No more than you or you –  
The things I do –  
I can’t explain.  
Something is wrong with my brain.

Patter:  Very fast:

Money fills my helpless head with fierce intoxication --  
Feeble in its fiendish grip -- oh! fatal fascination.  
I can't resist the awful urge I feel within me rising.  
And when, transformed, I do emerge, I'm past all recognizing.  
My stomach is a bloated sight --  
I wear a silk hat day and night --  
I ride around in Cadillacs --  
I chisel on my income tax --  
I trample on my workers' backs --  
My God!  
The things I do --  
I can't explain --  
Something is wrong with my brain.

II

Take my wife, for instance,  
Really she's not so bad.  (Taddy-ah, boom boom.  Taddy-ah, boom)  
She was just a dairy maid  
And I a lad --  
And so we wed --  
I can't explain --  
Something is wrong with my brain. 

Patter:

Her father was the president of Milk, Incorporated.  
He taught his own contented cows to give evaporated.  
Though captain of his industry, he doted on his daughter,  
And made her heir to Grade A milk dissolved in Grade B water.  
I was a poor but simple lad.  
Her bovine beauty drove me mad.  
Her tender lips -- her sable coat --  
The gem she wore around her throat --  
The gem she wore around her throat.  
My God!  
And so we wed –  
I can’t explain –  
Something is wrong with my brain.

III

Take my son, for instance,  
He is my pride and joy.  Taddy-ah, boom boom. . Taddy-ah, (boom) 
Quite a likely youngster –  
Really a clever boy –  
The things he does –  
I can’t explain –  
Something is wrong with his brain.

Patter:

I give him his allowance, but it doesn’t come to buttons.  
He has to have a yacht or two to keep up with the Huttons.  
You don’t know how much dough it costs to keep a polo pony.  
And though there’s never income tax, there’s always alimony.  
His social life’s a dizzy whirl –  
From debutante to chorus girl.  
He never sleeps, he never sits –  
By winter, he’s so shot to bits,  
He has to go to Biarritz –  
My God!  
The things he does –  
I can’t explain –  
Something is wrong with his brain.

IV

When it comes to labor,  
That’s where I’m really fair. (Taddy-ah, boom-boom.  Taddy-ah, boom).  
After all, ‘twas labor  
Made me a millionaire –  
And yet we fight –  
I can’t explain –  
Something is wrong with my brain.

Patter:

I cut their wages every day,  
It gives me such a pleasure.  
I disregard the ones who say  
They haven’t any leisure.  
I always work them overtime  
Without an extra penny.  
And if they ask for two weeks off,  
I just don’t give them any.  
And when they strike, I clamp down hard,  
Protected by the National Guard –  
I raise a patriotic stink –  
I call out every scab and fink –  
Descendant of the missing link –  
My God!  
And yet we fight.  
I can’t explain –  
Something is wrong with my brain.

Repeat Introduction: