There is a place where the internet ends
And before reality begins,
And there the data flows fast through light,
And there the screens burn backlit bright,
And there the keyboards click as they type
To bask in the highway of sin.

Let us leave this place where the code grows black
And the darknet starts to creep in.
Past the boards where the conspiracies grow
We shall browse with a gaze that is measured and slow,
And follow to where the hyperlinks go
To the place where the internet ends.

Yes we'll browse with a gaze that is measured and slow,
And we'll follow to where the hyperlinks go,
For the NSA, they watch, and the NSA, they know
The place where the internet ends.