Within every electronic device
There lies a seed
Dormant and waiting to be
Released
Somewhere between eighteen months and two years
It will sprout
And begin to choke the life out
And if you've got an iPod,
You know exactly what we're talking about
You pressed the power bu*ton
And what happened was nothin'
iTunes won't even see it
Now you wish you'd warranted it
The Doom Seed has germinated
Your iPod shall not be recessitated
Now you gotta figure out whatcha gon do with your dead iPod
Write a eulogy and bury it in your backyard
Even though it's broke you can pretend like it's not
To avoid conversation with strangers at the bus stop
Use it as a weapon if you're being attacked-
You know what, on second thought, scratch that
Tape it to your body
Call it a bod-switch
Put it in a hoagie
Call it an iPod-wich
A paper weight is lame unless
There's a fan on your desk,
And even in that case
A man hole cover works best
Or keep it simple 'cause less is more;
Put it in a shoebox in the back of a drawer
Then 50 years from today
Your grandkids will find it and say:
"You listened to music on this? You mean when you were a kid,
you didn't have music uploaded directly to your brain!?"
And you'll say "Naw, we just had iPods."