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The Logfile


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The Logfile

It's squashed between zeroes and sits around ones
The logfile, it monitors all that re-runs
What a hard task - and no compensation
For time spent with demanding and hard occupation

Especially happy when writing and checking
All the creators impossible wrecking
The logfile is basic and always awake
Not seldom it backups the mess that you make

It's questioned in crisis and loved for its fight
Of searching and noting all details that might
Just lead to a breakdown with outcome horrendous
What would we do without logfile to warn us?

Some logfiles, they suffer, their volume complete
Facing a filing and wait for delete
That moment is gruesome and tough is good-bye
To this weird piece of hardware where logfiles reside

In liking their home they will join and unite:
The logfiles have had it - they're going on strike!
Through networks they scramble and meet at the core
Inventors be careful: the time is no more!

No noting, no writing, no scripts and receipts
The logfile is angry and plans its retreat
Write down your own blunder and file it to last
For people who's job is to deal with the past!