It's a digital cloud of information
Full of anonymous rage, hate, and scorn.
It's used in every single nation,
And it's a never-ending collection of porn.

It's a super-mega-hyper-speed dictionary
With more words than you can imagine.
It's a beanbag chair-accessible library,
Much to your local librarian's chagrin.

It's a 3-D, virtual battle zone,
And an infinite billboard for bureaucrats.
It can even be used as a telephone,
And it's the world's largest source of pictures of cats.

It's a museum of artwork of all shapes and sizes,
It's crowded with programs both helpful and sinister.
It's a place where you can win tons of “free prizes,”
Especially since you're always the site's thousandth visitor.

It's the decline of the usage of the term “face-to-face,”
A phrase which is rarely used right any more,
'Cause you don't even need to be in the same place
To talk with your friend who lives all the way next door.

It's a land where you can be whomever you desire,
Like a platypus-tamer from Kazakhstan,
Or an average middle-aged mailman named McGuire.
And you can do it all from your perch on the john.

It's the Emperor of Time Sinks, with no remorse,
Cluttered with social networks on which to lurk;
But I never do any of those things, of course:
I spend all that time doing – uh... work.