Twas the first days of summer, weather was hot.
Advice taken from Goldman, commodities were not.
A few measly declines was only required.
And all tards lined up, both young and retired.
Get your bags and buckets they holler and yell.
And loaded up as the shiny stuff fell.
Put on their space helmets they soon after did.
Only to watch as the shiny stuff still slid.
Days, months, then years, surely it was coming soon.
Never once did any of them catch a rocket ship to the Moon.