'Tis Carlsberg, that Danish ale-house fine,
Britvic they seek in their grand design,
To quench the thirst that does not call for wine,
And lessen ye dependence on the hop-vines twine.
Alas! The men of Samsung, take to their heels,
To strike a blow, for greater commonweals,
Three days they vow, to stop the turning wheels,
Yet claim the lords, 'twill not disrupt our deals.
In lands afar, where the kangaroos roam,
Business dips into savings, 'gainst the loan's heavy tome,
Still, arrears are few, as if guided by gnome,
Thus speaks the banker, from his gilded home.
