You are not American
You are an european,
Not sefarade, but ashkenaze.
As your forefathers,
To remember the big blaze,
You speak Yiddish,
And even if you are youngish,
You speculate on the financial lathers,
At Wall Street and on other stock exchange places,
Running to achieve the races
Around the clocks.
You have a big wallet,
Full of adresses on all the blocks
Of the city on the jet set,
That plays cricket,
Holding with both hands a mallet.
As of no commune
Origin and parentage,
You can imagine at your age
Touching the summit of the dune.