TALKING SWEET BYE AND BYE
© Greg Keeler 1987

Talking Interface Blues

Our wedding was high tech, before my life was wrecked.
We synthesized an organ and a flute.
Instead of holy men, we rolled in an IBM,
And it asked do you or do you not compute.

Chorus:
But she's gone waltzin' off to Texas with some hacker out of Reno
Who just nibbled Harrah's software on a dimestore floppy disc.
She called me user friendly then whipped out a gun to end me.
Shot the mouse right off my Apple when she missed.

I bought her flowers for her hair and lacy underwear.
I learned Pascal and Basic just for her.
When she showed me her spread sheet, our program was complete.
You should have heard my hardwear start to whir.

Chorus

I took her from her mom when I returned from Viet Nam.
She upgraded all my systems just to pull the plug on me.
Now whether Lisa, Mac or PC all I see is chargin' VC.
I don't even have to log on nosireee.

Chorus

Yes, with her new micromodum, she'd seduce 'em and download 'em.
Her interface could print the chrome right off a trailer hitch.
But she said that I was sexist, a complete Oedipus Rexist.
In short, I was one lost son of a bitch.

Chorus

The other evening she wrote home through the modum on my phone.
She said her input output was on line.
Well, I was totally dismayed when she bragged about his K
And said his bit looked like a bite compared to mine.

Chorus