An Irish CPU

About a CPU I sing,
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
About a CPU I sing
Who sat around compi-a-ling
And wouldn't do another thing
For anyone else logged in, logged in,
For anyone else logged in.

Old programs it would just ignore,
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
Old programs it would just ignore
And leave them rotting in the core,
Not caring what they all were for
Except those in "user/bin", "user/bin",
Except those in "user/bin".

This CPU was lots of fun,
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
This CPU was lots of fun
Until one wanted programs run
And if one tried to get them done
It typed back "You're not logged in, logged in."
It typed back "You're not logged in."

Long processes it would not do,
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
Long processes it would not do
And, rather than to run them through,
Would ask to have some Irish stew
And a couple of cases of gin, of gin,
And a couple of cases of gin.

And then it would raise hellish toasts,
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
And then it would raise hellish toasts
And make a few obnoxious boasts,
Not only could it drink the most,
It knew many more ways to sin, to sin.
It knew many more ways to sin.

To prove its point to all the world,
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
To prove its point to all the world
It let the magtape fall in curls
And wrap around some foxy girl
And slowly rewind her in, her in,
And slowly rewind her in.

This sordid tale I won't prolong,
Sing rickity, tickity, tin.
This sordid tale I won't prolong
And, if you do not enjoy my song,
You've got Abe to blame if it's too long.
He should never have let me begin, begin.
He should never have let me begin.