COURTING THE NET
(Bob Wilson)

My love is on the Internet again
He says he'll come to bed soon, but he never tells me when
He's out there surfin' somewhere with imaginary friends
He's a little fish in a big pond, dot com.au at the end

My love is on the Internet again
I fear some horny geek girl is messing with his brain
For the Net's an open sewer, and he's peering down the drain
Printing out the porn page as I sing this sweet refrain

Why won't you come to bed with me
We could yahoo all night long for free
Make a real connection if we try
But every time I hear that modem squeal
Like a lover's cry that's not quite real
I put a bookmark in my paperback, think about the things I lack
And dream about a real time guy

My love is on the Internet again
I wish he'd kept his motorbike, we'd more in common then
But he's moved away from maintenance and he's given up on zen
Now he follows the money markets and the fortunes of the yen

Oh the information highway is an easy road to be on
Kerouac could have travelled it without ever leavin' home
It's like a message in a bottle, swept up on the sand
But there's a million bottles on the beach, each with a unique message of its own

My love is on the Internet again
His cyber-infidelity indelibly ingrained
He left me with the phone bill, I left him standing in the rain
He even took the lap top where I wrote this sweet refrain

Why won't you come to bed with me
We could yahoo all night long for free
Make a real connection if we try
But every time I hear that modem squeal
Like a lover's cry that's not quite real
I put a bookmark in my paperback, think about the things I lack
And dream about a real time guy

Source: transcription from The Goodwills 'Courting the Net'

Bob Wilson is a Kiwi who now lives in Maleny, Queensland.

The Goodwills

--Stewie.