- cifra
(They didn't know where he was going on, but they knew what he was, wasn't it?)
We are everyday robots on our phones
In the process of getting home
Looking like standing stones
Out there on our own
We're everyday robots in control
In the process of being sold
Driving in adjacent cars
'Til we press restart
(They didn't know where it was going on, but they knew what it was, wasn't it?)
Everyday robots just touch thumbs
Swimin' in lingo, they become
Stricken in a state of sleep
One more vacant seat
For everyday robots getting old
When our lips are cold
Looking like standing stones
Out there on our own
