From Peter Wightman, about Computers in Australia

...From a science fiction show of note...

A computer was something on TV,
A window was something you hated to clean,
And ram was the cousin of a goat.

Meg was the name of my girlfriend,
And gig was a job for the nights.

Now they all mean different things,
And that really megabytes.

An application was for employment,
A program was a TV show.

A cursor used profanity,
A keyboard was a piano.

Memory was something that you lost with age,
A CD was a bank account,

And if you had a 3-inch floppy,
You hoped nobody found out.

Compress was something you did to the garbage,
Not something you did to a file.

And if you unzipped anything in public,
You'd surely be in jail for a while.

Log on was adding wood to the fire,
Hard drive was a long trip on the road,

A mouse pad was where a mouse lived,
A backup happened to your commode.

Cut you did with a pocket knife,
And paste you did with glue,

A web was a spider's home,
And a virus was the 'flu.

I guess I'll stick to my pad and paper,
And the memory in my head.

I hear no-one's been killed in a computer crash,
But when it happens they wish they were dead.