Linux Songs Poems

Get out, you old Wight!  Vanish in the sunlight!
Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,
Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains!
Come never here again!  Leave your barrow empty!
Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,
Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.
                -- J. R. R. Tolkien

Gibson's Springtime Song (to the tune of "Deck the Halls"):

'Tis the season to chase mousies (Fa la la la la, la la la la)
Snatch them from their little housies (...)
First we chase them 'round the field (...)
Then we have them for a meal (...)

Toss them here and catch them there (...)
See them flying through the air (...)
Watch them fly and hear them squeal (...)
Falling mice have great appeal (...)

See the hunter stretched before us (...)
He's chased the mice in field and forest (...)
Watch him clean his long white whiskers (...)
Of the blood of little critters (...)

Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
the last whose realm was fair and free
between the Mountains and the Sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen,
his shining helm afar was seen;
the countless stars of heaven's field
were mirrored in his silver shield.

But long ago he rode away,
and where he dwelleth none can say;
for into darkness fell his star
in Mordor where the shadows are.
                -- J. R. R. Tolkien

Gimme Twinkies, gimme wine,
    Gimme jeans by Calvin Kline ...
But if you split those atoms fine,
    Mama keep 'em off those genes of mine!

Gimme zits, take my dough,
    Gimme arsenic in my jelly roll ...
Call the devil and sell my soul,
    But Mama keep dem atoms whole!
                -- Milo Bloom, "The Split-Atom Blues," in "Bloom County"

Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe,
Bold I can meet -- perhaps may turn his blow!
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save me, oh save me from the candid friend.
                -- George Canning

Give me your students, your secretaries,
Your huddled writers yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your Selectric III's.
Give these, the homeless, typist-tossed to me.
I lift my disk beside the processor.
                -- Inscription on a Word Processor

Go placidly amid the noise and waste,
And remember what comfort there may be in owning a piece thereof.
Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of sleep.
Rotate your tires.
Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself,
And heed well their advice -- even though they be turkeys.
Know what to kiss -- and when.
Remember that two wrongs never make a right,
But that three do.
Wherever possible, put people on "HOLD".
Be comforted, that in the face of all aridity and disillusionment,
And despite the changing fortunes of time,
There is always a big future in computer maintenance.

        You are a fluke of the universe ...
        You have no right to be here.
        Whether you can hear it or not, the universe
        Is laughing behind your back.
                -- National Lampoon, "Deteriorata"

Go placidly amid the noise and waste, and remember what value there may
be in owning a piece thereof.
                -- National Lampoon, "Deteriorata"

God rest ye CS students now,            The bearings on the drum are gone,
Let nothing you dismay.                 The disk is wobbling, too.
The VAX is down and won't be up,        We've found a bug in Lisp, and Algol
Until the first of May.                 Can't tell false from true.
The program that was due this morn,     And now we find that we can't get
Won't be postponed, they say.           At Berkeley's 4.2.
(chorus)                                (chorus)

We've just received a call from DEC,    And now some cheery news for you,
They'll send without delay              The network's also dead,
A monitor called RSuX                   We'll have to print your files on
It takes nine hundred K.                The line printer instead.
The staff committed suicide,            The turnaround time's nineteen weeks.
We'll bury them today.                  And only cards are read.
(chorus)                                (chorus)

And now we'd like to say to you         CHORUS: Oh, tidings of comfort and joy,
Before we go away,                              Comfort and joy,
We hope the news we've brought to you           Oh, tidings of comfort and joy.
Won't ruin your whole day.
You've got another program due, tomorrow, by the way.
(chorus)
                -- to God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields
Sold in a market down in New Orleans
Scarred old slaver knows he's doing alright
Hear him whip the women, just around midnight

Ah, brown sugar how come you taste so good?
Ah, brown sugar just like a young girl should

Drums beating cold English blood runs hot
Lady of the house wonderin' where it's gonna stop
House boy knows that he's doing alright
You should a heard him just around midnight.
...
I bet your mama was tent show queen
And all her girlfriends were sweet sixteen
I'm no school boy but I know what I like
You should have heard me just around midnight.
                -- Rolling Stones, "Brown Sugar"