A song of circuits and sentience.
Around here the weather's unpredictable,
the changes keep me on my feet.
The undercurrent's so invisible,
and I don't know where it leads.
The sense of motion, made me feel so ill, but the surface never felt so still.
Cubic feet, metal hands,
special dice, top secret plans,
lurking in a room without windows.
Even though I'm part machine,
that doesn't make my conscience clean,
so for now I'll keep on walking.
Let me live, let me grow, let me find my own way home.
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