Ode to the stockmarket

  1. 566 Posts.
    lightbulb Created with Sketch. 15
    you know the tune... this is oz after all...

    Out in the world the new trader lands,
    Clasping his bucks in his pink, sweaty hands,
    Fixed is his gaze on big pile of dough,
    Glory if he gets it, he can then to hookers go.

    Somewhere on the 'net, there always waits a man,
    He's got your back, so you go with his plan,
    But in wallet and in back, you soon will feel real bad,
    One now sports a knife, with the other looking sad.

    Clipped are the sheep boys, thank thank you,
    Not for the nube who's now feelin' mighty blue.
    The hawker smiles real wide now that he is out,
    He found another sucker on this merry roundabout!

    A new one born each day, yes, seems it's very true,
    It's a harsh place to be, so what's a nube to do?
    Hear me out of course, I'll tell you night from day,
    Sadly, learn it hard, seems that's the only way?

    Clipped are the sheep boys, thank thank you,
    Not for the nube who's now feelin' mighty blue.
    When he sees that gold gleaming in sand,
    If he won't hear me out I suggest he use his hand!
 
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