| The Trouble With Talkin'! |
| It didn't take this much for E.T. to call home, Just a few Reese's Pieces and an old, broken phone. One step to the left, two or three to the right, You have to have radar to find that satellite. You carefully pick what you hope is "the spot" But two words, then "click", let's you know that it's not. So back to the business of dialing the phone, This time you stand still, like a man made of stone. If a breeze blows too fast or a small cloud has loomed, You talk super-quick because this call is doomed. We have only minutes to say what we must, It takes the 9th call 'cause the first 8 went bust. The mail is OK, but not really much better, My life went three-sixty 'fore you got the last letter. We've sat and we've thought and we've found better ways, We'll just make mental notes the next few hundred days. If not for these problems, we'd write it all down, But we'd no doubt fly past it on our way back to town! |
| by "Sassy Sue" 06/16/2005 |