Of oil, that blackest brew, we sing,
From earth's depths, by demons wrung,
Its price doth fall, a fickle thing,
No ear to EIA's dirge hath clung.
The dollar, proud and gleaming bright,
On eagle's wings finds strength anew,
Debt ceiling fears dissolve in night,
As whispers of a deal's breakthrough.
Now caution, friends, o'er Greek bonds keep,
Elections near, the fates unknown,
Yet if New Democracy long sleeps,
Investment's grade might call them home.
