The tea is warm, the hat is yellow, the bear market drags on, K-line points down, hearts drift away. Once chasing pumps in a panic, Now chanting scriptures like a monk. One knock of the wooden fish, greed retreats; Two knocks, principal takes a hit; Three knocks, no more fantasies; Four knocks, survival is king. Bull market to make money, Bear market to recuperate. Money weathers tribulations in the charts, People find peace in their tea.