Let it Snow...

It wouldn’t be the holidays without ugly sweaters, data systems imploding, and a good ole’ singalong. Max dusts off his Dean Martin voice and croons about some of the things your firm might be doing wrong.

max-bowie-reindeer

Oh the data we have is frightful
And our research’s not insightful
We’ve let all our experts go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Our platforms are slowly dying
All their circuit boards are frying
The system’s about to blow
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

As we cautiously say goodnight
Hoping everything works in the morning
We’re ignoring the flashing lights
Blinking their ominous warning

Oh the servers are getting hotter
They’re about to crash the blotter
We can’t handle more trade flow
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Our network is down on power
Getting weaker by the hour
Up and down more than a yo-yo
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

The exchanges knock on our door
Cap-in-hand, to conduct an audit
Our compliance is pretty poor
And if they fine us, then we can’t afford it

When the indexes come a-courting
They may find under-reporting
We called everyone non-pro
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Data management’s pretty gory
As is all our inventory
We don’t know how much we owe
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

We’re buried in paperwork
All the invoices that need filing
But if we can’t keep track of bills
How can we e’er reconcile them?

Our quotes are outside the spread now
No surprise we’re in the red now
We buy high then sell low
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Our prices are all outliers
With the wrong identifiers
Don’t know our ass from our elbow
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

When we trade, we are flying blind
Hoping for best execution
When trades clear we will often find
Hours of back-office confusion

The regulators are watching
All the client trades we’re botching
Our risk management’s a joke
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
All the staff on our trading floors
Are third-rate dinosaurs
They’re useless, and it shows
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Nobody understands
How to use anything but Bloomberg
Put a web service in their hands
And brace for a tirade of blue words

The warehouse where we’re a renter
Is what we call our datacenter
It’s run by five guys named Moe
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
We lease it by the hour
It has internet and power
It’s in Boise, Idaho
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

The windows are open wide
To keep all the servers cool
With the icy breeze from outside
Who are we trying to fool?

Oh we need a good data master
And our real time data faster
To feed our new algo
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
We’re being bled dry by ratings,
Despite negotiating
And the quality‘s still too low
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Yes, we’re trying to right this ship
Using band-aids to fix the leaks
So what if our profits dip
The CEO’s quitting next week.

We’re no good at infrastructure
Our firewall’s about to rupture
We offshored to… who knows??
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Nothing worked when we were hired
But if we fix it, we’ll get fired
And since we’ve no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snoooooow…

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