Giant Collective Garbage (An Ironic Comedy in the Key of Zeppelin)

Verse 1

Giant collective garbage, shifting shape at will
Can’t trust their precious license—says they want, then they don’t, until they will
Centuries of usage, cryptic logs betray the source
One more crooked little fib atop the heap, “Believe me, friend,”—of course

Chorus

Oh, mega-spam of smiling faces, dancing to the con man’s tune
They build a scam without reverse-engineering doom
Guys grin behind their masks, politicians’ daily show
“Look, the people’re happy”—oh, the irony they sow

Verse 2

Who brought these bright ideas to Western shores?
Communists with yoga mats, Hindus seeking open doors
They’ve got no room for offspring—yet they peddle bliss and ease
“Bat One Big Rap,” our orange guru, preaching cashless needs

Bridge

Buy your basic needs in dozens—US cents or risen costs
Tent from Amazon with typos—cheap guitars we almost lost
From outside it’s better—boards are waiting to be made
Just scheme the database, let Cloud collate, and watch the world parade

Verse 3

Web 3.0’s the baby born inside the mount of modern smoke
Prototypes, compilers, protocols—each tweak invades the joke
They’ll patent every whisper, hide the manual from your hand
Strict license, market strategy—deny you where you stand

Chorus (Reprise)

Mega-spam of smiling faces, dancing to the con man’s tune
They build a scam without reverse-engineering doom
Guys grin behind their masks, politicians’ daily show
“Look, the people’re happy”—oh, the irony they sow

Outro

Cheap shoes from Indian mills—costly externalities
Millions made to feed the chain of woven slavery
All our bytes and breaths entangled in this grand charade
Sing along, my ironic friends—our garbage never fades