Music…

It's funny, I was humming that song to myself the other day, thinking how much of it did and didn't come true. The album is from 1967, I think.
For those who don't feel like clicking, it starts with

My name is a number, a piece of plastic film, and I grow tiny flowers in my plastic window sill.

The next verse
My wife still respects me, I really misuse her, though I'm having an affair with a random computer. (Which wasn't so much 2000, but these days, quite possible.
 
Back
Top