When I was young, my mother would say
Your life will be run by machines one day
along the way conversation will be lost
no more talking is what it will cost
They will never have words of exchange
or have fun when they are re arranged
see emotion in the peoples eyes
or read from them if its the truth or lies
Way back then could she see today
as we no longer seem to have much to say
A mechanical voice, greets us on the phone
and you have to answer, but you are alone
Press one it says for an order to place
Press two if you have a parcel to trace
Press three if you want to pay
but nothing to press if you have something to say
Oh dear it seems you are in a queue
but we will shortly be with you
all our machines seem to be busy
you can no longer talk to Fred, Joe or Lizzy
You know you can visit us online
if you've already done that you might decline
www.grateyournerves.com
Oh by the way where are you from
Tap in the number followed by hash
are you paying by card as we no longer take cash
Speak into the phone loud and clear
We might get it wrong if we can't hear
You might find the answer on the website
was said in a manner that was so polite
While you are waiting some music we'll play
I hope that you are having a great day
Whats that bellowing in my ears
mechanical music and its grinding my gears
then intervenes the mechanical voice
You can hang up now, or wait, your choice
Or you can even send an email
but if you don't wait your payment might fail
A premium number is what you have dialled
did you check with your parents if your a child
I am sorry that we kept you waiting, it said
the office is now closed and put to bed
we have now come to the end of our day
I do hope that you had nothing to say
Call back tomorrow when we are open again
we are less busy around about ten
if you supply thier details and recommend
we will pay you £10 for every friend
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes such frustration multiple menus none of which are applicable Hard to speak to a human seems almost impossible and the musics made to enrage. I sometimes think. P.S. It's Mechanical not machanical. Great poem loved it. BB : O)