This is blatant profiteering. 
I watch the green lines and I long. 
I watch the red ones and I wish I was short. 
We're all convinced it's the next big thing. 

From the pages of word-splattered history, 
and the charts by which we navigate the stars, 
from the scores of symphonies that sit on dusty shelves, 
I scratch together my lessons. 

Will this leather-bound volume contain my answer? 
I need to know. 
Will the line go up or down next? 
Will it follow the pattern of maths and machines? 
Or will it dance to the clicks of a horde of addicts? 

Tell me!