h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I once met a man who had no shoes.
For him, life was anything but sweet.
Then I found a solution to his blues:
I met a man who had no feet.

People say i have no brain!
But i choose to disagree!
For if i had no brain you see!
How the hell could i be me?

I am a scapegoat
I live a life of gruff
Everybody blames me for all
I've really had enough
Now if you want to pass the buck
You'll have to find another fool
I've sold my things and moved abroad
Now spend all day lounging by the pool
How, you'll ask, this luxury did i afford
Well now that i'm beyond your grasp - i'll tell
For every time i was put to blame
For every scheme of yours fell through
It really was indeed my fault
I've played 'you' for the fool
When push and shove are the games new rules
You should really watch your back
For all those years i took your stick
I taught myself to hack
And with patience born of suffering
I've emptied your bank accounts behind your back
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!!

I am not a hacker (or more correctly - not a cracker)
I abhore the thought (the thought of all digital chicanary)
I believe in real freedom ( freedom for which we've already fought )
I see the need to pay for what i use ( pay and not abuse )
I need not deal with pirates ( especially corsairs in zute suits )
I pray to the God of engineers ( the God of deers, bull and bears )
I sometimes do wear a beard ( and spend alot of time on my keyboard )
I am not a hacker (or more correctly - not a cracker)

I found the one ring to rule them all
In a box of Crackerjacks last Fall.
Since then, I've met the ring wraiths nine.
Not one deserves a valentine.

They're boring, greedy, self-centered and vain.
I dropped them down a sewer main!

I found a ring made of gold coloured bakealite
It had a red ruby coloured cut plastic bit
I thought i might have uncovered saxon gold maybe
But alas it was just a bit of tat - worthless grit

I travel down the long and windy country road
where I lodge at my favourite loch side abode.
I sit with my friends by a roaring log fire
telling them of my time being the Town Crier.

I told them that I aspire to become the first female friar
and to become the lead singer of the National choir.
All I have to do is get into the right rhythm and mode
when communicating with my animal guide the azure toad.

The azure toad. Many tales are told of him.
He shines at night when stars are dim.
In deserts he'll lead you to oases green.
A welcome friend he on Halloween.

in the forests of the night
in cyber reality
stalks a breed unknown to most
the roaming cyber-gypsy

The cyber gypsy moth's unique,
With tusk of ivory, wings of teak.

the caravan moves on and sways, in a steady bin-ary trot
powered by one DSL modem, that's suprisingly's not hot
the little flashing lights display, the status while i roam
directs the bits of this lament, far far across the foam

or maybe?:

in the forests of the night
in cyber reality
stalks a breed unknown to most
the roaming cyber-gypsy
the're caravans move on and sway
in a steady bin-ary trot
most powered by DSL modems
that are now getting quite hot
thier little flashing lights display
the status while they roam
directing the bits of thier laments
far far across the foam

Is cyber reality really real,
Or it is but a delusion?
Like mermaids luring sailors
To their doom, or else to stark confusion.

Is eight hors work a burden like a sack of coal?
Or maybe just an illusion just a burdon on my soul?

To save confusion:


Is eight hours work a burden like a sack of coal?
Or maybe just an illusion just a burden on my soul?

Jive with Clive who's a long standing member of the Borg hive.
Wiggle your hips when you feel like having a good old giggle
about the days when we drove the groovy and hip Sinclair C5
or when you're having a niggling thought about the best ways to squiggle.

Eight horses work for eight hours
Hauling sacks of bituminous coal,
Expecting real treats, getting illusory
Ones, ending up sick of soul.

Todd please come down from the steps with your brick hod to pass me your I-pod.
And will you please nod if you want me to go and buy you a new fishing rod?
I am also going to the Ockendon's garden centre to buy a new flower bower.
I may even go to the DIY centre to buy material to build for my own bell tower.
Would you like to come with me to pop to the stables to see the newborn foal?
And would you like to join with me in a ploughman's lunch that's served with an egg roll?

Eight horse in a disco, bopping to RnB
All the dancefloor make space for 4 boys and 4 phillies
The crystal ball it glitters but is outshone by 8 toothy grins
If only the'd entered 'Pop Idol'. surely they would win?

The thought of eight horses
Dancing disco makes me afraid,
Very afraid. The music courses.
For the coda, they neighed?