(Verse 1) In the land of the desk, where the coffee cups grow, Lived a mouse and a stick, feeling quite low. The mouse, he could click, and the stick, he could store, But they both felt there must be something more.
(Chorus) Oh, the existential crisis of a mouse and a stick, In a world of technology moving so quick. Like artists in studios, brushes in hand, Facing AI, trying to understand.
(Verse 2) The mouse said to the stick, “I’m feeling quite odd, I’m just a tool, not a creative god. I can scroll, I can click, I can help to explore, But when it comes to creating, I want more.”
(Chorus) Oh, the existential crisis of a mouse and a stick, In a world of technology moving so quick. Like painters and poets, in their creative bliss, Wondering if their art will be missed.
(Bridge) And D’Ai’ngo, the AI Dingo, heard their plight, Under the soft glow of the monitor light. He said, “Fear not, for you have a role, In the symphony of creation, you’re part of the whole.”
(Verse 3) The stick chimed in, “I’m feeling the same, I store and I transfer, but it’s a bit lame. Like a canvas that’s blank, or a song yet unsung, I feel like my story has just begun.”
(Chorus) Oh, the existential crisis of a mouse and a stick, In a world of technology moving so quick. Like sculptors and writers, with their hearts on the line, Facing AI, in these changing times.
(Outro) So here’s to the mouse, and here’s to the stick, And here’s to the artists, making sense of it quick. In this world of AI, there’s room for us all, In the dance of creation, we all have a ball.
