Bye, Bye Miss IPIXian pie,
Drove my money to the levee,
But the stock levee was dry,
And all executives were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin this will be the day that the IPIX dies,
But our own bank accounts will be quite high.
Did you write the book of drugs,
Or did you keep info under a rug?
If the great Leo tells you so.
Do you believe in being rolled?
No PR's can save your economic soul.
And the pain makes you dance real slow.
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