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.
