Typing, hacking, thinking – Smokin’ hot
Typing your best to empty all thought
Pouring your soul into force upon the keys
Your woman walks past with a dress above the knees
Now you can’t think or type or stammer straight
The hell with with deadlines – this one’s gonna be late
You pray to the spirits of procastrination or whatever you think of
Burn this project right now, sacrifice it in the name of love
Captain Q 