To the East, where dragons make their nests,
A fine fair feast of stocks doth rouse the jest.
In a trickling stream of copper and zinc
Descends anew, God’s bountiful drink!
By charts, the dollar doth falter and fail,
Against the Singaporean lion, so hale.
As an ale-head foams ere its strength is spent,
The downward path doth make lament.
AstraZeneca, thee holiest brothers mine,
Shall erect thy shrine, with gold so fine.
In Singapore, a furnace to roast,
Cancer, that loathsome and monstrous host!
