I've got the microcomputer blues.
I've got some data that I'm going to loose.
I've got bytes in my fingernails and dust in my shoes.
I've got the microcomputer blues.
Well, I was just an average citizen with two kids and a wife,
My house and car payment was long overdue,
And yet I made a big decision that has ruined my life:
I went and bought myself a new Apple II.
The salesman told me that computers were the wave of the future;
There was software for my every want.
Now I'm an hacker and a pirate and an on-line junkie,
And my family is pale and gaunt.
I've got the microcomputer blues.
I've got some circuitry that's going to fuse.
I've got a receding hairline, 'cause I'm paying my dues.
I've got the microcomputer blues.
Well, it was just the other Saturday; I got up at five;
I had a dream about a program to write.
My wife was sleeping soundly on the living room couch,
'Cause I had tossed and turned for most of the night.
Well, I got myself some coffee; put it on the CRT,
And I sat down, and I began to code.
When my old cat jumped up and knocked my cup right off into the keyboard,
And the computer started to explode.
I've got the microcomputer blahs.
I've programmed seven days without any pause.
I've got a receding hairline, 'cause I'm paying my dues.
I've got the microcomputer blues.
You know, I'm feeling kind of strange; my tone of voice is so monotonous;
My eyes reveal a cold, distant stare.
I was invited by my boss to one of those swinging office parties,
And I simply said to him, "Syntax Error."
And, lately, when I ask a question, my right eye begins to blink
Just like a cursor on the video screen.
And when I looked into the mirror as I shaved myself today
My face was turning from pink to green.
I've got the microcomputer blues.
I never watch the sports, the weather or news.
And my brain's degenerated to a 6502.
I've got the microcomputer blues.
Well, I'm a high tech clone and half my circuits are blown,
I've got the midnight booter,
Low-down looter,
Microcomputer blues.
Oh, yeah!