|
Original song |
The Sounds of Silence |
Original artist |
Simon and Garfunkel |
Filk author |
David Pogue |
Intro |
Apologies to Paul Simon |
The Sounds of Silence
Hello voicemail, my old friend;
I've called for tech support again.
I ignored my bosses' warning--
I called on a Monday morning.
Now it's evening and my dinner first grew cold
And then grew mold...
I'm still on hold.
I'm listening to the sounds of silence.
You don't seem to understand
I think your phone lines are unmanned!
I pressed every touch-tone I was told,
But I've still spent 18 hours on hold;
It's not enough your program trashed my drive,
And it constantly hangs and bombs;
It erased my ROMs!
Now my Mac makes the sounds of silence.
In my dreams I fantasize
Of wreaking vengeance on you guys.
Say your motorcycle crashes...
Blood comes gushing from your gashes...
With your fading strength, you call 911,
And you pray for a trained MD...
But you get me.
And you listen to the sounds of silence.
|