Sometimes I like to rewrite the words of songs … often those of musicals. In this case, Evita’s “Another Suitcase in Another Hall”
Eva:
I don’t expect my programs to compile at first,
Never fool myself that my typing is true.
Being used to errors, I anticipate it,
But all the same I hate it, wouldn’t you?
Chorus:
Eva: So what’s compiling now?
Che: Another program in another lab …
Eva: So what’s compiling now?
Che: Printf, echo, take another stab…
Eva: Where is this silly bug?
Che: You’ll compile, you always have before …
Eva: Where is this silly bug?
Eva:
Time and time again, I’ve said it’s in NP,
That it just can’t be done, in polynomial time,
But every time we argue, all the proofs desert me,
And back I go trying, one more time …
[chorus]
Eva:
Call in three months time, I’ll be fine, I know,
The problem solved, though the code might be slow.
I won’t recall the names and places of this complication
But that’s no consolation here and now …
[chorus – but now Che’s lines are sung by nerdlets]