The Song of the Spell Checker
(or ‘Computer knows best’)
I have a spelling chequer
It came with my pea see
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye can knot sea.
When eye strike a quay, ore right a word
Eye weight four it two say
Weather eye yam wrong oar write
It shows me strait aweigh.
As soon ass ay mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two late
And eye can putt the error rite
It's rarely, rarely grate.
Hive run this poem through it
I'm, shore yore pleased to no.
It's letter perfect in its weigh,
My chequer told me sew.