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Oh blessed are we,
That such consoles should exist on earth.
A gift from a greater being.
Not that of Superman or The Predator,
nor of supernatural birth.
Such variety is a blessing,
Bountiful gifts in store,
Occasional prices, not to be scoffed at,
Cards using up the great british pound,
Even from bank accounts of the poor.
Gaming surrounds everybody,
Of every creed, religion and age.
Little numbers, like The Matrix,
Everybody is a code inside,
To see people it doth enrage.
Technofear, Technojoy,
Technogirl, Technoboy.
Robots, toasters, TVs, grills,
Mounted on top of them credit card bills.
Turn them off, turn them on.
Until it breaks.
Then a replacement is needed,
For technology is only temporary,
Technotrees and Technolakes.
Environmentally friendly,
Techonologically evil,
What a great upheaval.
So praise your consoles while you can,
For they won't be there forever,
When technology becomes uneeded,
And things have become too reliant by chance,
When the world unwinds to the end of its tether,
PS3, Xbox, and Gameboy Advance.
A strange poem i've written about how gaming, or moreso, technology is only a temporary part of the existence of the world; that it will become to advanced for human use, and how we will look back on it, like a blessing from the 'Gaming Gods'.
That such consoles should exist on earth.
A gift from a greater being.
Not that of Superman or The Predator,
nor of supernatural birth.
Such variety is a blessing,
Bountiful gifts in store,
Occasional prices, not to be scoffed at,
Cards using up the great british pound,
Even from bank accounts of the poor.
Gaming surrounds everybody,
Of every creed, religion and age.
Little numbers, like The Matrix,
Everybody is a code inside,
To see people it doth enrage.
Technofear, Technojoy,
Technogirl, Technoboy.
Robots, toasters, TVs, grills,
Mounted on top of them credit card bills.
Turn them off, turn them on.
Until it breaks.
Then a replacement is needed,
For technology is only temporary,
Technotrees and Technolakes.
Environmentally friendly,
Techonologically evil,
What a great upheaval.
So praise your consoles while you can,
For they won't be there forever,
When technology becomes uneeded,
And things have become too reliant by chance,
When the world unwinds to the end of its tether,
PS3, Xbox, and Gameboy Advance.
A strange poem i've written about how gaming, or moreso, technology is only a temporary part of the existence of the world; that it will become to advanced for human use, and how we will look back on it, like a blessing from the 'Gaming Gods'.
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Oh blessed are we,
That such consoles should exist on earth.
A gift from a greater being.
Not that of Superman or The Predator,
nor of supernatural birth.
Such variety is a blessing,
Bountiful gifts in store,
Occasional prices, not to be scoffed at,
Cards using up the great british pound,
Even from bank accounts of the poor.
Gaming surrounds everybody,
Of every creed, religion and age.
Little numbers, like The Matrix,
Everybody is a code inside,
To see people it doth enrage.
Technofear, Technojoy,
Technogirl, Technoboy.
Robots, toasters, TVs, grills,
Mounted on top of them credit card bills.
Turn them off, turn them on.
Until it breaks.
Then a replacement is needed,
For technology is only temporary,
Technotrees and Technolakes.
Environmentally friendly,
Techonologically evil,
What a great upheaval.
So praise your consoles while you can,
For they won't be there forever,
When technology becomes uneeded,
And things have become too reliant by chance,
When the world unwinds to the end of its tether,
PS3, Xbox, and Gameboy Advance.
A strange poem i've written about how gaming, or moreso, technology is only a temporary part of the existence of the world; that it will become to advanced for human use, and how we will look back on it, like a blessing from the 'Gaming Gods'.
That such consoles should exist on earth.
A gift from a greater being.
Not that of Superman or The Predator,
nor of supernatural birth.
Such variety is a blessing,
Bountiful gifts in store,
Occasional prices, not to be scoffed at,
Cards using up the great british pound,
Even from bank accounts of the poor.
Gaming surrounds everybody,
Of every creed, religion and age.
Little numbers, like The Matrix,
Everybody is a code inside,
To see people it doth enrage.
Technofear, Technojoy,
Technogirl, Technoboy.
Robots, toasters, TVs, grills,
Mounted on top of them credit card bills.
Turn them off, turn them on.
Until it breaks.
Then a replacement is needed,
For technology is only temporary,
Technotrees and Technolakes.
Environmentally friendly,
Techonologically evil,
What a great upheaval.
So praise your consoles while you can,
For they won't be there forever,
When technology becomes uneeded,
And things have become too reliant by chance,
When the world unwinds to the end of its tether,
PS3, Xbox, and Gameboy Advance.
A strange poem i've written about how gaming, or moreso, technology is only a temporary part of the existence of the world; that it will become to advanced for human use, and how we will look back on it, like a blessing from the 'Gaming Gods'.