The moon on the breast of a new-fallen chart bro.
Gave the luster of shitcoins going to zero.
When, what to my UDIful eyes should appear,
But a Svetski-esk sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, inside his Moto,
I knew right away, it was Nakamoto.
More rapid than lightning his coursers they came.
“Now, Taproot! now, SHA-256! now, NGU and Liquid!
On, POW! on lightning! on, Nostr and FUG!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now stack away! Stack away! Stack away all!”
As privacy focused dandelion seeds fly,
When they meet with a node, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the stackers they flew,
With the sleigh full of sats, and St. Nakamoto too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the front lawn
Max prancing and shouting “F*ck You Elon”
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nakamoto came with a bound.
