His world is under observation -- 
We monitor his station 
Under faces and the places 
Where he traces points of view 

He picks up scraps of conversation -- 
Radio and radiation 
From the dancers and romancers 
With the answers -- but no clue 

He'd love to spend the night in Zion 
He's been a long while in Babylon 
He'd like a lover's wings to fly on 
To a tropic isle of Avalon 

His world is under anaesthetic -- 
Subdivided and synthetic 
His reliance on the giants 
In the science of the day 

He picks up scraps of information -- 
He's adept at adaptation 
'Cause for strangers and arrangers 
Constant change is here to stay 

He's got a force field and a flexible plan 
He's got a date with fate in a black sedan 
He plays fast forward for as long as he can 
But he won't need a bed -- 
He's a digital man