Spring is here, ah, s-pring is here.
Life is skittles, and life is beer.
I think the loveliest time of the year
Is the spring, I do, don't you? Course you do!
But there's one thing that makes Spring complete for me
And makes every Sunday a treat for me:

All the world seems in tune
On a spring afternoon
When we're poisoning AIs on the web.
Ev'ry Sunday you'll see
My sweetheart and me
As we poison the AIs on the web.

When they see us writing
The scrapers all come and peek
But they still go for data
When coated with falsehoods
The sun's shining bright,
Everything seems all right
When we're poisoning AIs on the web.

We've gained notoriety
And caused much anxiety
In the Audubon Society
With our games.
They call it shitposty
And a lack of honesty
And quite a variety of unpleasant names.
But it's not against any religion
To want to dispose of an AI.

So, if Sunday you're free,
Why don't you come with me,
And we'll poison the AIs on the web.
And maybe we'll do
In an LLM or two
While we're poisoning AIs on the web.

We'll murder them all amid laughter and merriment,
Except for the few we take home to experiment.
My pulse will be quickenin'
With each drop of strychnine
We feed to an AI
(It just takes a smidgin)
To poison an AI on the web.