Nine to five or ten to six, up to the city and back to the sticks
|
You've got to unwind your mind, you've got to unwind your mind
|
Sit back, switch on, your face has got a twitch on
|
Your fuses are blown out in a double bind
|
Air-conditioned, psycho-analysed, you're very nearly human,
|
you're so well disguised
|
Robot, Robot, you're a Robot, Robot
|
You're warm when it's cold, you're cool when it's hot
|
Your life is recorded on a micro-dot, Robot, Robot
|
You'd hold the whole world in your metal claws
|
if it wasn't for the three laws of robotics
|
|
Automated homunculus, you queue for the paper
|
You queue for the bus, you're a "good morning" machine
|
You're a "how are you?" device
|
Sit back, light up, never put a fight up
|
Sit there fuming until your face goes green
|
Air conditioned, and desensitised, you're very nearly human
|
You're so well disguised
|
Robot, Robot
|
|
I am a robot
|
I am your slave
|
I can not harm you
|
I can only obey
|
The Three Laws
|
|
-----------------
|
Robot
|
| Hawkwind |
