I was forty when I first heard
Of MS-DOS and Microsoft Word
I tried it out and was convinced
And we've been married ever since.
Before I met up Microsoft
I wrote on an Underwood
Typewriter on copy paper
As I imagined a writer should
And then the ease of that blue screen,
To copy, paste, save, delete.
Autoformat, find, replace
Puts a man on Easy Street
I don't know about third-party formats,
RTF or Word Art
I just know that 5 point 0
Is written in my heart.
All those windows on my screen
A novel and a screenplay
A song I'm writing for the show
A column that's due today
I sit and work here happily
All day for hours and hours
Like a horse grazing in the meadow
Like a hummingbird in the flowers
In the beginning was the Word
Other systems may be preferred
May be faster, so I've heard
But my affection won't be transferred
Back in my writing loft
It's Microsoft.
An Apple notebook and Microsoft Word
Is all that I will ever need
And someday when they're obsolete
I'll hang on and not concede
I'll be deaf and 95
The last Word user left alive
Old and dumb and gone to seed
Writing stuff no one can read
Unicorns, moonlight and stardust
I don't care, I am an artist