Stories4Satoshis on Nostr: Dragons Love Their Paper Money Dragons love their paper money, They count it by the ...
Dragons Love Their Paper Money
Dragons love their paper money,
They count it by the ton,
Like a pot with endless honey,
They print it just for fun,
For creatures used to hoarding gold,
This is quite a new trend,
Guarding lairs is rather old,
It’s easier to spend,
And when they spend it far and wide,
It helps them to achieve,
All of their goals without a glide,
Their stories you believe,
With their paper note comes a trust,
From seller to buyer,
Compliance sans coercive thrust,
Sans barred teeth or fire,
But can a dragon print too much,
And give himself a burn,
Give the printer a heavy touch,
A lesson he must learn,
He sends the trusted paper out,
Everything else comes in,
Until the paper loses clout,
And then the games begin,
They’ll start by moving the goalposts,
And say that you are blind,
To all their accolades and boasts,
Of the peace they have signed,
If that doesn’t work, they’ll start wars,
To occupy your eyes,
Throw paper notes at neighbor’s doors,
Choose leaders as their guise,
If that won’t play, they’ll make fake jobs,
And print more fake paper,
To pay for all the lazy slobs,
Making savings vapor,
They may offer future earnings,
Against their own shelf life,
Imagining no bad turnings,
From blessedness to strife,
When the turning finally comes,
With dragons caught off guard,
They’ll hide all red font final sums,
But nothing can retard,
The fires kindled just for them,
For eating the seed corn,
And ploys of paper money whims,
Expense of those yet born,
For their love of paper money,
These dragons to destroy,
Even lands of milk and honey,
And fields of rape and soy,
Even dragons have a shelf life,
Just like their paper bills,
Their elderly minds are self-rife,
Their gullets filled with pills,
We see dragons eat their own tales,
Claim that others did it,
Print paper money till it fails,
Give the printer credit,
They must resort to hoarding gold,
Proper pastime to store,
A technology slow and old,
They’ll have fun staying poor,
While the rest of us store our time,
In what they call vapor,
We’ll be eating steak in its prime,
They’ll be eating paper.
Dragons love their paper money,
They count it by the ton,
Like a pot with endless honey,
They print it just for fun,
For creatures used to hoarding gold,
This is quite a new trend,
Guarding lairs is rather old,
It’s easier to spend,
And when they spend it far and wide,
It helps them to achieve,
All of their goals without a glide,
Their stories you believe,
With their paper note comes a trust,
From seller to buyer,
Compliance sans coercive thrust,
Sans barred teeth or fire,
But can a dragon print too much,
And give himself a burn,
Give the printer a heavy touch,
A lesson he must learn,
He sends the trusted paper out,
Everything else comes in,
Until the paper loses clout,
And then the games begin,
They’ll start by moving the goalposts,
And say that you are blind,
To all their accolades and boasts,
Of the peace they have signed,
If that doesn’t work, they’ll start wars,
To occupy your eyes,
Throw paper notes at neighbor’s doors,
Choose leaders as their guise,
If that won’t play, they’ll make fake jobs,
And print more fake paper,
To pay for all the lazy slobs,
Making savings vapor,
They may offer future earnings,
Against their own shelf life,
Imagining no bad turnings,
From blessedness to strife,
When the turning finally comes,
With dragons caught off guard,
They’ll hide all red font final sums,
But nothing can retard,
The fires kindled just for them,
For eating the seed corn,
And ploys of paper money whims,
Expense of those yet born,
For their love of paper money,
These dragons to destroy,
Even lands of milk and honey,
And fields of rape and soy,
Even dragons have a shelf life,
Just like their paper bills,
Their elderly minds are self-rife,
Their gullets filled with pills,
We see dragons eat their own tales,
Claim that others did it,
Print paper money till it fails,
Give the printer credit,
They must resort to hoarding gold,
Proper pastime to store,
A technology slow and old,
They’ll have fun staying poor,
While the rest of us store our time,
In what they call vapor,
We’ll be eating steak in its prime,
They’ll be eating paper.