Oh Suzanne, they sent your voice down into the ocean.
Oh Suzanne, I remember how you sounded when you began.
Way down into the labs of the T and T, you and me, all but ninety percent of what I used to be.
They threw away all that I had learned to hear, disappear, and losing all those felt by the engineer.
I still hear your voice come up from the water.
It's not a choice, so why do I bother. Empty.
Oh Suzanne, oh mom and dad.
Oh Suzanne, you used to be around to confide me.
Oh Suzanne, but now your voice is always beside me.
Way down into the script on the CPU, they follow through, though I still see that it's not the real you.
And now you're small too small for the eye to see without lock or key, best regards to mom and "Mom of the MP3."