F.Y.P.

the cute little poem i wrote that i was telling you about, beth.

f is for freak
y is for yuck,
p is for phooey
i'm running out of luck.

transducers ain't workin'
the wires are too long,
the hard disk is bitchin'
everything's going wrong.

deadline is 16th march
there's really not much time,
to rush this project out
i'm going outta my mind.

there's only so much i can do
complain, whine, fume, spit,
its only a short matter of time
before i'll have had enough of it!