You probably learned "The Tarrier’s Song" in summer camp or college. Its catchy refrain goes:
Drill, tarriers, drill,
Drill you tarriers drill.
Oh you work all day
For the sugar in your ta’,
Down, behind, the railroad track,
Now drill you tarriers drill.
And blast. And fire.
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I like the song because of its exquisite subtlety. The word ‘tarrier’ has two roots. Its an archaic form of terrier, to burrow into the ground like a canine terrier. The other meaning of tarrier is one who tarries, which is say, one who goofs off. Thus, etymologically, you could view this song from either the labor or the management perspective—as the hymn of exploited workers clawing at the ground from dawn to dusk for peanuts, or as a manager’s complaint about deadbeats who tarry on the job and in consequence don’t earn enough to afford even a sweetener for their Earl Gray.
Etymology aside, I got to thinking about The Tarrier’s Song recently while reading an article in Barron’s. Headlined "How To Fix Wall Street’s Research Problem," it described how the reputations of many stock analysts were badly tarnished because of the way they hyped new dot-com companies that the analysts’ own investment banking employers were taking public. That’s the theme of my Wall Street version of The Tarriers Song, which I call "The Analysts’ Song."
The Analysts’ Song
Refrain:
Shill, analyst, shill,
Shill you analyst, shill,
Oh you shill all day
For your bonus Christmas pay,
Down, behind, the trading floor,
Now shill you analysts, shill.
Complain? You’re fired!
Ev’ry morning, they sifts and sorts,
Seeking out clues in some annual reports,
While the front office says better not forget,
Those firms that we took public, we still owe a debt.
Refrain:
And shill, you analyst, shill,
Shill you analyst, shill,
Oh you shill all day
For your bonus Christmas pay,
Down, behind, the trading floor,
Now shill you analyst, shill.
Complain? You’re fired!
The bubble’s popped, and they’re seeking a name,
Someone to tag in the old blame game,
And analysts jobs are the one’s to cut
‘Cause folks that called the tune have covered their butt.
Refrain:
And shill, you analyst, shill,
Shill you analyst, shill,
Oh you shill all day
For your bonus Christmas pay,
Down, behind, the trading floor,
Now shill you analysts, shill.
Tough luck. You’re fired!
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