Autopilot

I’ve been living in an autopilot, pre-programmed by myself

After waking from my escapisms, spending nights in my shelf;

I’ve been walking too far, just to see I’m sleep-walking

Treading the hills downward, falling, feeling nothing.

Occasional adjustments, I upgrade my own systems,

Before setting once again, with mechanical rhythm

To the factories of babies, money and ideas,

A cold steel planet in an orbit full of bias.

Because, as its always been, they won’t give you breaks

Even in doubt, continue moving for your sake;

And when the night comes, come and see

I’ll fix your broken parts, automate you like me.