There once was a boy, a robotic boy,
with a crank sticking out of his brain.
He never performed with sadness or joy
he was just simply programmed to sing.

So he sang.
So he sang.
So he sang.

So he sang until the melody
With no one around this robot fell down,
and the crank it broke off of his head.
With the jar to his hard drive he felt all alive:
The old robot he used to be dead.

There was rage in his brain!
There was pain in his frame!
There was love, there was hunger and strife!
He felt lonely, rejected, at times disconnected!
No answer to the meaning of life!

So he sang.
So he sang.
So he sang.
So he sang.