And now your toner's toney, Disk blocks aplenty
And your paper near pure white, Await your laser drawn lines,
The smudges on your soul are gone Your intricate fonts,
And your output's clean as light.. Your pictures and signs.
We've labored with your father, Your amputative absence
The venerable XGP, Has made the Ten dumb,
But his slow artistic hand, Without you, Dover,
Lacks your clean velocity. We're system untounged-
Theses and papers DRAW Plots and TEXage
And code in a queue Have been biding their time,
Dover, oh Dover, With LISP code and programs,
We've been waiting for you. And this crufty rhyme.
Dover, oh Dover, Dover, oh Dover, arisen from dead.
We welcome you back, Dover, oh Dover, awoken from bed.
Though still you may jam, Dover, oh Dover, welcome back to the Lab.
You're on the right track. Dover, oh Dover, we've missed your clean
And so it was, later,
As the miller told his tale,
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale.
-- Procol Harum