Go Silvio Go, says FT (In the name of Capital, everywhere, go!)

(...) After two decades of ineffective showmanship, the only words to say to Mr Berlusconi echo those once used by Oliver Cromwell.

In the name of God, Italy and Europe, go!

The capitalist's prayer on FT





Deep down in Louisiana close the New Orleans 
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens 
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood 
Where lived a country boy named Silvio B Good 
Who never ever learned to read or write so well 
But he could play the guitar just like ringin a bell 


Go, go, go silvio go go 
go silvio go go 
go silvio go go 
go silvio go go silvio be good


He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
Or sit beneath the tree by the railroad track
Oh an engineer could see him sitting in the shade
Strummin' to the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by they'd stop and say
Oh my but that little country boy can play

Go, go, go silvio go go 

go silvio go go 

go silvio go go 

go silvio go go silvio be good

His mother told him some day you will be a man
And you will be the leader of a big old band
Many people coming from miles around
And hear you play your music till the sun goes down
Maybe someday your name gonna be in light
Sayin' silvio be good tonight

Go, go, go silvio go go 

go silvio go go 

go silvio go go 

go silvio go go silvio be good