Computer, computer upon my desk
So much to choose from, what should I do next?
O woman, O woman upon the chair
Stay where you are: venture not from my lair
With tender hand caress keyboard and mouse
As for him, worry not about your spouse
For cooking and cleaning will always be
But so much drudge they are compared to me
Rumplestiltsin will come in dark of night
Dust bunnies he surely will put to flight
And if by chance he has some time to spare
Then in the garden the weeds he'll not spare
But there's the table to wipe, bench to clean
Things I must do else he thinks I'm so mean
Clothes to fold and then the ironing to do
These things really should all come before you
My fair lady so sweet, don't be so mean
Far too much there be to wash and to clean
Make bed or clean fridge is really the pits
To slave at such stuff is truly for twits
So when you look round at start of the day
Ponder what t'will be that is to hold sway
My siren voice says to you I'm the most
Luring you to me in a room so close
So concern yourself not about the house
Keep eyes on monitor and hand on mouse
For just between us both that's you and me
The Internet is where we want to be.
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