I put too much time into this to not post it just because of [neutrino]'s efforts, so here goes
On a warm bunner’s evening, on the net bound for nowhere,
You log onto the bakery, Got an idea ‘bout a sheep
The newbies were a’ sharin, their plans to go warp speed
Some kind of valveless
engine, and you begin to weep.
There was something ‘bout a ray-gun, kills people with a laser
No sign of pirate monkeys; just ketchup-filled French fries
Some stalwarts aren’t stayin’, miss a lot-a familiar faces,
For a sign of old brissy, you’d pay ‘bout any price.
Somethin fires up your throttle, some shit you couldn’t swallow;
Some bum being ig-norant, he was askin for a fight;
Had to write your anno right, gotta leave the right impression
Said if you’re gonna make a claim boy, you better make sure that it’s right.
You got to know when to bone ‘em, know when to scold ‘em
Know when to M-F-D, know when to bun
You never count you croissants, when you’re new to the bakery
There’ll be time enough for shoutin’, when the voting’s done.
Now every baker knows, the secret to survivin
Is knowing what to MFD; what annos to del-ete
That Vernon’s idea’s ‘r bigger, than any other us-er;
And the only ones you vote for, are those that didn’t make you sleep
So when you’ve finished preachin’, and finally close the window
Look back and figure out, you’ve dug a hole too deep
You can tell by the harshness, your annos aren’t for keeping
And [Jutta’s] final word ‘ll be to change it or delete.
You got to know when to bone ‘em, know when to scold ‘em
Know when to M-F-D, know when to bun
You never count you croissants, when you’re new to the bakery
There’ll be time enough for shoutin’, when the voting’s done.
You got to know when to bone ‘em, know when to scold ‘em
Know when to M-F-D, know when to bun
You never count you croissants, when you’re new to the bakery
There’ll be time enough for shoutin’, when the voting’s done.