SONG OF THE GALACTIC BANKER

(Tune: "My Favourite Things" again)

Round coins and square coins and coins shaped like wedges,
Six-sided coins with blank verse round the edges,
Long coins and short coins and fat coins and thin,
Some of the cash that the Nyronds bring in...

Copper and silver coins, gold coins and nickel,
Sea shells and coral and punnets of pickle,
Coins made of rubber and leather and tin,
Some of the cash that the Nyronds drag in...

Where they get them,
Where they net them,
We don't need to know.
Our business depends on what Nyronds bring in,
And where we can make--it go.

Bolts of fine satin and reels of elastic,
Slave girls and slave boys and men in white plastic,
Livestock and rolling-stock, cash, kind or kin--
We can take all that the Nyronds haul in...

Our obsession
With discretion
Is a sound device,
For sometimes I feel from what Nyronds bring in,
They can't really be--quite nice!