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On a screen with many colors
On a now late afternoon,
As the light shines on the keyboard
In a semi-darkened room.
And I sit and drink my coffee
Typing up a frenzy
As quickly as I can
Do I really have a plan?
In The Chatroom Conversation
And the cyberspatial sighs,
The boredom of our lives.
Folks from Florida in sunshine,
Talk to northerners in frost
And we note each ball team's fortunes
Have the Tigers won or lost?
And we see the scrolled responses
They truly do not follow
No reason and no rhyme,
Like fragments out of time
In The Chatroom Conversation
And the cyberspatial sighs,
The boredom of our lives.
And we speak of things that matter
So they won't be misconstrued
Are the Braves a bunch of chokers?
Is Irabu any good?
The room is only in our mind's eye
And I only see your typing,
I cannot shake your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost In The Chatroom Conversation
And the cyberspatial sighs,
The boredom of our lives.
April 6, 1999: This song reflects my thoughts on what goes on inside a baseball chatroom.