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} Supplicant, your questions I have pondered,
} they seem at times to make no sense at all.
} I look at you and all the time you've squandered,
} concocting stuff about some mythic wall.
}
} I cannot help but be a bit disgusted,
} for none of this is seemingly unique
} at least the dreaded null question, so rusted
} seems to have escaped that mental leak
}
} (tellme, askme, rate me, ZOT me...
} tellme, askme, rate me, ZOT me...)
}
} But since you ask, I've no choice but to answer,
} and Lisa will confirm each word I say,
} The chance of her agreeing to go date you,
} is that of William Clinton turning gay.
}
} the woodchucks are verbotten here, you know this,
} they're chucking beer not plywood anyway.
} and I would worry 'bout the roads that you've missed
} more than the ones that have not come to play.
}
} (tellme, askme, rate me, ZOT me...
} tellme, askme, rate me, ZOT me...)
}
} For Babe online I'd surely call up lycos,
} and look up "pigs" and "films" and "oversweet"
} My answers are a function of their input,
} and make a lovely garden mixed with peat.
}
} Go to the mirror, boy...
} Go to the mirror, boy.
}
} The sky is blue, for it reflects the ocean,
} I am your lord and master, never doubt,
} the chick who crossed to see her uncle Bernie
} got hit by Colonel Sanders' run-about.
}
} When I get gifts, it is infrequent,
} when I do not, I pop my cork.
} I keep a warehouse full of payments
} from diamond bracelets down to sporks
}
} Right behind you, I see a tow truck
} too bad, he has no brakes now,
} At least, you'll die contented
} That your dear Orrie never fakes, now!
}
} Your next of kin owes the oracle a copy of "The Who: Studies in Pink."
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![[IO]](https://kinzler.com/picons/db/domains/org/internetoracle/unknown/face.gif){kind=small}
