Lester Atlas, a crude, very rich corporate raider, traps Norman in the Caribbean dream by offering to buy the hotel for him, and then welshing on the deal when Norman can no long back out. He is a despicable but somehow lovable rogue, who in his own mind is a magnanimous, misunderstood benefactor of humanity. What other people call corporate raiding, he explains, telling the truth in business matters. Why Jimmy decided to give him a song with a tango rhythm and a klezmer trill I don’t know, but it works.
I’m just an old truth teller
I’m your candid friend
I’m not some daydream seller
I do not pretend
I’ve a sense of survival
And screwing my rivals
That’s labeled me crossed and uncouth
But I can’t help it I just tell the truth
He can’t help it, he just tells the truth
I’m just an old truth teller
Brutally direct
I see it eye for eye
I’m rarely incorrect
Why call me a sharp trader
A corporate raider
I’m a role model for today’s youth
It’s so simple, I just tell the truth
He can’t help it, he just tells the truth
Bridge:
Why was I born to be right all the time
In deal after deal after deal
Foiling those sharks that are circling my penthouse
Hoping to make a meal
No good deed goes unpunished
Nothing goes as planed
My ingrate family left me
I don’t understand
Where’s your wife?
In Alaska
Any sons?
In Nebraska
And my daughter milks cows in Duluth
I can’t help it, I just tell the truth
Ohh he can’t help it, he just sells it
he can’t help, he just tells it
I can’t help, I just tell the truth