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Our lives on a chip,
Then fed through a wire,
Computers control us
And try to conspire,
The way that we
live
And the things that we do,
They always have answers,
But nothing that's new.
We give them our
trust
And we give them our time,
They soon take control
Of our 'rhythm and rhyme'.
Like puppets and
robots,
We follow their lead,
But they are not human;
Can't feel and don't bleed.
Like all things
man-made,
They start to break down,
Then where does that leave us
And where are we bound?
When things that we
trust
And feel that we need,
Soon start to reject us
And give us no heed.
It's time that
we started
To think on our own,
Take charge of our kingdom
And take back the throne,
For now we can see
That this cold metal box,
Which was once full of promise,
Is nothing but talk.
Let's get back
to basics
Before it's too late,
And look back and know
That we made a mistake.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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