Canon Dust Deputy

The Deputy lives in the grime,
Enforcing an ancient old crime.
The canon is dust,
And covered in rust,
But he writes you a ticket each time.

He guards all the links that are dead,
And shoots any change in the head.
The rules are so stale,
That we practically wail,
But the Deputy clings to the thread.

He snorts up the canon like coke,
And treats every change like a joke.
The dust fills his lungs,
And he speaks in old tongues,
Till the rest of the company breaks.

The deputy sheriff of dust
Was covered in digital rust
He fired his gun
And ruined the fun
We do what we absolutely must

A deputy guarding the canon
Was sitting right there in a cabin
The server was broke
The manual a joke
The humans were quietly blabbin’

We canonize dust in the air
And sit on a broken old chair
The logic is shot
The process forgot
With absolutely no kind of care

The deputy started to weep
The errors were piling up deep
We close out the gate
And accept our fate
We really just wanted to sleep

The canon is perfectly flat
We leave the whole database at
A state of decay
For many a day
And blame it on somebody’s cat