She spoke the language that the shells speak to the sea
A perl of perfection she seemed to me
Skin like a python, lips like rubies on a rail
Her style cascading like a sheet

I knew I could never have the grace at her command
Not with a thousand APIs beneath my hand
My builds are all crooked, my links always miss
To me her lofty heights were banned

And her laughter struck me like a fell disease
Don't you know how we control game NPCs?
It isn't machine code, it's not in hex
But scripts full of parentheses

                 One night I stole in to her server-room
                 And I overwrote this file:

         You don't have to compile to get to run
         Look at the macros and you'll see
         They execute but aren't redone
         Fortran and C are not for me

I came so skill-less to her Twilight Coding Shed
Too clumsy a coder to master awk and sed
A hopeless haxor, an inelegant clod
Until she my script interpreted

Like a brick through a window, she TCLed at my thoughts
'Til even a moron could have connected the dots
We were root and guest account, we were peer to peer
We were script-kiddies writing bots

                 Sharing weak-typed languages from her memory
                 She explained to me why

         You don't have to compile to get to run
         Look at the batchfiles and you'll see
         They execute but aren't redone
         It's Ousterhout's Dichotomy
         It's Ousterhout's Dichotomy