|
Hawkwind |
|
Lyric Book |
|
Robot |
|
( - Calvert - Brock - ) |
|
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 |
|
_______________________________________________________________________ |