Innocent people being hooked on the blue book,

becoming dull robots that speak in code;

it comes in your sleep taking your intellect like a crook,

by bribing you with a new mode.

To waste your brain cells, by taking a look;

at the new post and comment that just showed.

It’s like you’re hooked on the book,

with no time for the real me to tell you an ode.

About my handy dandy address book stuck in my nook,

and my  letters that were sent with sticky money and a zip code,

that was how I used to communicate through my book.

Join my group while you’re here, on the side road,

there is nothing to fear for my heart is a babbling brook.

I’ll be here forever, to update my status in code

‘cause that’s what’s on my mind’.  Now cook

a sammich for you and I, so we then can unload,

our feelings and aspirations on the fake book with the timeline look.

For the world to read and become more node,

for once it was face-to-face, now it’s face-to-book.