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The New Breed

I haven't seen me in a while,
How am I doing?
Am I having fun?
And are my thoughts all brewing?
Some ideas fade,
Like the mind goes blank,
Like getting hit by a mortar,
Or ran over by a tank.
But the new breed fights,
It's a brand new generation,
Singing the notes,
With a computer to help command them.
Hate or love,
Peace or anger,
It will all flow out,
But who can really stand it?
Fat, nasally bass,
The keyboard won't deny you,
When you program its memory,
It will always stick by you.
The machine does the work,
But you have to make it go,
Tweaking the knobs,
It's completely under your control.

©1999-2018 Steve Bujanow

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Copyright©1999-2018 Steve Bujanow, Neocortex. All Rights Reserved.

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