He is alone again His left hand is dead The sun shines on his bed His left eye is red Walking machine with no highs Programmed for constant lows He turns the walk mode on This robot has got the blues The room is hollow Like his metallic head The hallway is dark Like his rusty heart Walking machine with no highs Programmed for constant lows He turns the walk mode off The robot has got the blues Walking machines with no highs Programmed for constant lows He turns the smile mode on This function fails again...