How doth the little software bug
improve my shining code
By making it go opposite
the way it should have flowed;
And look! upon his countenance
he wears an evil grin
because he plans to take what's OUT
and turn it back to IN
In vain I try to kill the beast
who turned this art to dung
But every time I recompile
Alas! My program's hung
And yet I labor on to crush
the horrid, vicious sprite
By adding lots of printf's
to the code, both left and right;
But still the noxious vermin lives
and tramples ROM and RAM
Until my brain is spinning and
I don't know where I am...
To sleep, to rest, perchance to dream
is all my goal of late
But staying up to battle bugs
appears to be my fate
And now, please pardon while I go
to pound on keys and cry
Until the moment that I find
the bug and make it die
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