Ode to a Radioman

Oh, this my friends,
Is not an ode
To the carefree life
And the open road.
No, here's to a mill
In a radio shack
And a posture chair
For my weary back.

Oh, give me not the quite sleep
Where slumber is natural
And dreams are deep.
Give me instead the troubled bed
Where code runs rampant
Through my head.

Here's to the hours
When most men rise,
And I'm just beginning
To close my eyes.
Here's to the waiting
And here's to the sittin',
And the thousand "No Signals"
I have written.

Oh, take your steaks,
Your chops and wine.
Give me baloney and Navy brine.
Take your carefree life and
stow it!
You think I'm crazy?
Brother, I know it!!!

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