Man can create a mechanical heart He can discard the organs for synthetic parts Then he programs the mind And he thickens the skin They resemble humans but Their not your friends They are drones Without meaning They are fakes Without reason They know all the motions and don't deviate They are slaves To false idols They are cowards Bound by fear They think far too long And feel way too late Creator of d**h Reign down On us May you stand on A grave of our bones Our thoughts Ideas No one will mourn your d**h Do these gears have a pulse A blood that flows of the revolt Do they create with love but design with this hate Man can build a face that never frowns but does it understand the reason of its smile Cold hands and warm hearts Hold steady, stay the course Course of action That led us all to here Madman took the wheel to steer Nothing will be left to remember the mistake We are the disconnected We are the disconnect We aren't machines