Recited by Brian Davis
'Twas the night before Christmas at
the coin brokerage house
not a Commentator was writing, nor clicking a mouse.
The stocks that they held had all gone to Bear,
hopes of high metals prices just weren't there.
The Banksters were nestled in bed with their Miners,
with bribery to silence their CEO whiners.
Modern mining techniques yield Silver successes,
so what if that made Copper - Zinc excesses?
Crush the price down to make it go splatter,
It's not just Supply, but Demand now that matters.
The Crime-X boys will force a price crash,
Silver and Gold are the coins they must smash.
Synthetic supply of three hundred to one
give a luster of Gold, but the vault there has none.
The Long Contracts for Silver delivery should appear,
but this market is miniature, I must tell you my dear.
Who is this debt slave driver, who treats me like a buffoon?
I knew it was the Creature from Jekyll Island Lagoon.
More rapid than eagles, her manipulations they came,
and the reasons that she gave grew increasingly lame:
"Now say it's a paperweight,
or a rock for your floor!
Your barbaric Gold relic
from an antique store!
Drive the price up
to cull out the herd!
Now crash away! Crash away!
Make the price more absurd!"
As the Silver price falls to the ground from the sky,
Five twenty percent dumps put fear in each guy.
Could that last Bankster crime be the final price drop?
How can we ever get this Creature to stop?
And then, in a twinkling, physical demand hit the roof
Surely we will now see a shortage, but where is the proof?
But the demand is so high, how can buyers be content?
By increasing the supply-side by Fifty Percent!
The Stackers had bought all the way to the top,
but many were sickened, and wanted to stop.
So they puked-up their boxes of Silver and Gold,
none of them new; all of them old.
The lies of the Blow-dries of CNBC,
were so toxic and vial; you get what you see.
But that hair, oh so gorgeous and so beautifully blown,
made me so jealous, with my waxed-polished dome.
Should I place my currency in stocks with no P/E?
Can I trust them for guidance, and not vivisect me?
I conclude I cannot, and run for the door,
I don't like what I see; I can't take anymore.
Some take the Blue pill, and stay in the Matrix,
That's one possible thought, of what you could do next.
Others go Red, and get out of their beds.
Then everything matters, what is done, and is said.
Can one encourage with a word, or produce a good work?
Can your family's stockings be filled, without arguing like a jerk?
With negative price action, can you just hold your nose?
I know it is tough now; I know that it blows.
The time of trials for our Real Money Gang,
is nearing an end; that's an end with a bang.
Vindication is nigh, and joy and delight.
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
not a Commentator was writing, nor clicking a mouse.
The stocks that they held had all gone to Bear,
hopes of high metals prices just weren't there.
The Banksters were nestled in bed with their Miners,
with bribery to silence their CEO whiners.
Modern mining techniques yield Silver successes,
so what if that made Copper - Zinc excesses?
Crush the price down to make it go splatter,
It's not just Supply, but Demand now that matters.
The Crime-X boys will force a price crash,
Silver and Gold are the coins they must smash.
Synthetic supply of three hundred to one
give a luster of Gold, but the vault there has none.
The Long Contracts for Silver delivery should appear,
but this market is miniature, I must tell you my dear.
Who is this debt slave driver, who treats me like a buffoon?
I knew it was the Creature from Jekyll Island Lagoon.
More rapid than eagles, her manipulations they came,
and the reasons that she gave grew increasingly lame:
"Now say it's a paperweight,
or a rock for your floor!
Your barbaric Gold relic
from an antique store!
Drive the price up
to cull out the herd!
Now crash away! Crash away!
Make the price more absurd!"
As the Silver price falls to the ground from the sky,
Five twenty percent dumps put fear in each guy.
Could that last Bankster crime be the final price drop?
How can we ever get this Creature to stop?
And then, in a twinkling, physical demand hit the roof
Surely we will now see a shortage, but where is the proof?
But the demand is so high, how can buyers be content?
By increasing the supply-side by Fifty Percent!
The Stackers had bought all the way to the top,
but many were sickened, and wanted to stop.
So they puked-up their boxes of Silver and Gold,
none of them new; all of them old.
The lies of the Blow-dries of CNBC,
were so toxic and vial; you get what you see.
But that hair, oh so gorgeous and so beautifully blown,
made me so jealous, with my waxed-polished dome.
Should I place my currency in stocks with no P/E?
Can I trust them for guidance, and not vivisect me?
I conclude I cannot, and run for the door,
I don't like what I see; I can't take anymore.
Some take the Blue pill, and stay in the Matrix,
That's one possible thought, of what you could do next.
Others go Red, and get out of their beds.
Then everything matters, what is done, and is said.
Can one encourage with a word, or produce a good work?
Can your family's stockings be filled, without arguing like a jerk?
With negative price action, can you just hold your nose?
I know it is tough now; I know that it blows.
The time of trials for our Real Money Gang,
is nearing an end; that's an end with a bang.
Vindication is nigh, and joy and delight.
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"