Sitting by the computer day by day
Getting fatter, weaker, stupider
In my own way
Using cordless phones to stay in my seat
Talking to friends
Even as I eat
Using e-mail to talk to people I know nothing about
Some claiming to be teachers doctors or even Mr. Lout
Decay does not smell of rotten meat
Nor rancid wine
It smells of an electrical beat
And the downfall of time
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