Grandma's on
the net again, the kitchen's not her home.
She used to make us cherry pies, and call us on
the phone.
She would talk to us for hours; now she leaves us
all alone.
We miss her homemade biscuits, and I'll make this
little bet,
If you want to contact Grandma, you'll have to
surf the net.
Grandma's surfing on the net, you bet.
She is surfing on the net.
We've been calling her all morning, and we haven't
got her yet.
She's on the E-mail network, with her electronic
friends.
If you want to talk to grandma, you'll have to
surf the net.
She's never surfed at Malibu, or caught a wave at
Waikiki,
She's never seen a surfboard: hang ten doesn't
mean a thing.
She's never met a beach-bum--Moon Doggie is just a
pup.
But when she heads for her computer, you know the
surf is up.
Grandma's getting older and her eyes are getting
dim.
Her random access memory, is half of what its
been.
When St. Peter comes to call someday, she'll say,
"I can't go yet."
He'll have to wait for Grandma, cause she's
surfing on the net.
Author
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Thanks Jaye
for sharing! |