If your name's on it...

You never hear the one that gets you!
My dad, returning from his war,
told me some things that he'd been sold,
among them, this one, very old,
left over from an earlier war. 
It spoke of shells and bombs and bullets. Boy,
you never hear the one that bears your name!

It's true, of course: the bullet's speed
outstrips the sound;
you hear it when you're dead. The one
you hear arriving
has passed by overhead.

The wise old owls up in their trees
thought nuggets such as these
would make men more relaxed,
less worried by the sound effects.

These more enlightened days
we're less naive:
they'd not have conned the likes of us!
Who listens now to canned advice?
for instance, thinks that Get
rich quick, or die in the attempt
is code for living well?
        But that's the philosophy
        that's the monstrosity
        of second hand living,
        of life less the giving -
        how lifeless is that?

So when the bombshell crisis
landed in the banks,
bursting among us punters,
remember what they said,
those manning the financial line?

We never saw it coming!