jax (04/28/83)
Hackers ain't easy to love, and they're harder to hold, And they'd rather give you a magtape than diamonds and gold, Unicom T-Shirts, and old beat-up tennies, and each night begins a new day, And if you don't understand him, and he don't die young, He'll probably spin-off some day. Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be hackers, Don't let them talk micros, and Wini disk drives, Make them be salesman, and lead saner lives. Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be hackers, They'll never stay home, or tie up the phone, With terminal, terminal love. Hackers like electronic game parlors, and green crt glow, Luke warm coffee, and granola, and vending machines in the night, And them that don't know them, won't like them, And them that do sometimes won't know how to take them, They're not weird, they're just different, And they're going to do things, To make you think they're doing alright. Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be hackers...... (-: .jax