The Hacker

			The Hacker

   (to the tune of 'The Gambler', by Kenny Rogers)
   (lyrics by Karl B. Young)

On a cold, winter's night in a building they call CERAS
I met up with a hacker; we were tired and fighting sleep.
He took his turn a-starin' at my screen there in the darkness.
Then boredom overtook him and...he began to speak.

He said, "Son, I've made a life out of user consultation--
Knowin' what your program does by the way you hold your eyes--
And if you don't mind my sayin', you are out of allocation.
For a taste of your soda I will give you some advice."

So I handed him my Pepsi and he washed down my last swallow.
Then he killed my job and put me in the queuing line.
Then the line printer got quiet and his face lost all expression:
"If you're going to play the game, boy, you've gotta learn to use your
	time"

CHORUS:
	"You gotta know when to code, know when to log out,
	Know when to single-step, know when you're through.
	You don't write your program when you're sitting at the terminal.
	There'll be time enough for writing...when you're in the queue."

"Every hacker knows that the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' when the time is free and what's the load and queue.
Cause everyone's a cruncher and everyone's a user
And the best that you can hope for is a crash when you're through."

Then he walked back towards his terminal as I stumbled to the lobby,
Went over to the couches and drifted off to sleep.
And somewhere in the darkness, the hacker he done logged out.
But in his final words I found some time that I could keep.

CHORUS