A song by Seraphino Aurelius Belladonna
Keeper of Mine Hypothetical Wealth
An exacting treasurer administers a fortune that does not yet exist with all the bureaucracy it richly deserves.
- From the album
- As It Ought to Be
- Album sequence
- Track 9 of 14
- First released
- Running time
- 3:27
The matter at hand
What the song concerns
Seraphino appoints a keeper over his anticipated riches, creating accounts, restrictions, inventories, and anxieties for wealth that remains entirely hypothetical. The imagined fortune accumulates procedures faster than coin.
The joke rests upon a recognizable instinct: it is often easier to manage the fantasy of success than to acquire it. By treating possibility as an estate already burdened by administration, Seraphino makes poverty sound less like absence than delayed magnificence.
In his own estimation
Seraphino, upon its composition
A lesser man waiteth until he possesseth wealth before arranging its stewardship. Such delay is how fortunes become disorganized. I appointed a keeper in advance, thereby ensuring that every hypothetical ducat should have a proper home the instant reality finally acquires the discipline to provide it.
My treasurer objected that one cannot inventory expectation. This displayed an unfortunate poverty of imagination. The coffers may be empty, but the rules governing them are exemplary. I keep what hath not yet been found, and I assure thee it is being managed with uncommon rigor.
“I keep what hath not yet been found.”
The complete text
Lyrics
Pray silence, all.
For I present a man of staggering responsibility…
and absolutely nothing to show for it.
He keeps the vaults that are not yet there
Counts coins that float in imagined air
He tallies sums that refuse to be
And nods as though they agree politely
He sharpens quills for receipts unborn
Balances ledgers both void and worn
A master of figures none may see
Save those that dwell in possibility
O Keeper of Mine Hypothetical Wealth
Guardian sworn to imaginary health
Should fortune arrive, thou’lt stand at the gate—
‘Til then thou art rich in the absence of weight
He audits chests that contain but dust
Invests in ventures composed of “must”
Diversifies in the realm of “may”
And profits handsomely… someday
He’s taxed by kingdoms that do not reign
Fined by losses that feel no pain
Yet still he stands with a noble face
In service to naught—but does so with grace
O Keeper of Mine Hypothetical Wealth
Treasurer bold of intangible pelf
If gold ever dares to solidify—
Thou’lt be the first to say, “Aye… that is mine.”
Mark him well.
For many men squander what they possess…
but this one—this rare specimen—
preserveth flawlessly that which doth not exist.
His coffers echo with phantom clink
His wine is poured from a “what-if” drink
He signs decrees no hand shall read
Yet executes them with flawless speed
And should one ask, “What dost thou keep?”
He answers not—he does not weep
He simply smiles, composed, profound:
“I keep what has not yet been found.”
O Keeper of Mine Hypothetical Wealth
Sovereign lord of conceptual stealth
When riches at last take tangible form—
Thou’lt claim them all… as thou always hast sworn
Until that most inevitable day…
he remaineth the wealthiest man alive—
in theory.
Further evidence