Here I sit, lightly toasted
Like a mushroom, oddly roasted
Over flames and coal.
Quietly typing, slowly wiping
the sweat from off my brow.
There I go, mostly melted
Like a sandwich freshly dealted
By a chef named Saul.
Slowly typing, quietly wiping
fingerprints from my screen
Now I glance, rightly pointed
towards the door disjointed
it's too dark to see
Wiping slowly, typing quietly
nonsense here for you
