Pays Hunch

tiz the old fashioned way of composing with paper and comfortable pen longhanded words writ with feeling as old fashioned habits kick in I'd like to be on my computer Alas an impossible place Some hacker has rendered it useless A jerk I can't see face to face There'll come time that it really won't matter as new situations arise the fabric of memory will tatter like forgotten political lies But back in the day when my temper held sway I'd be toasting his early demise By finding a technical way of whacking a hacker in play So I'll sit back and wait for sweet lady Fate To waltz on his grave in delight it's sweet consolation that knowing sensation his indiscrimination will step on a nerd redneck's feet who will take up the cause to make him hit pause then control alternate and delete