| I’ve heard tell once upon a time
|
| Man relied on his hands and mind
|
| Now, his mind is filled with bricks and steel
|
| One-eyed midgets tell us lies
|
| And give us twenty-one inch eyes
|
| Our hands are curved so bad we cannot feel
|
| From the steering wheel
|
| Computers tell us what to do
|
| What man or wife to be wed to
|
| And which man in the firm to fire or hire
|
| And when to cry and when to laugh
|
| And how to run our maze or graph
|
| And just how much our dreams can be inspired
|
| By human liars
|
| Automation, tin can lids
|
| Pretty soon they’re gonna make your kids
|
| How’d you like a body by Fisher, girl?
|
| If man keeps going in the same old way
|
| Making himself some robot slave
|
| He’s gonna find that planning this way will sure
|
| Lead to a sterile world |