[ Featuring the Killjoys ]
Mechanical hands work
They never tire
My mechanical hands work
What a thing to admire
I have nothing to say
Mechanical mouth doesn't move
The edges jut upward
To show my mechanical mood
Though I rust, I'm squeaky clean
No one mourns a broken machine
Mechanical girl
Mechanical thing
My clock is wrong, but I still keep time
And when yours runs out, you'll still have mine
Mechanical girl
Mechanical thing
You little machine
Living the dream
Mechanical eyes see through you
God, what a bore
Wasted flesh, wasted freedom
Seeing you is a mechanical chore
But what else am I good for
To those who are free
I pity the stupid human
That tries to be me
Though I rust, I'm squeaky clean
No one mourns a broken machine
Mechanical girl
Mechanical thing
My clock is wrong, but I still keep time
And when yours runs out, you'll still have mine
Mechanical girl
Mechanical thing
Mechanical girl
You little machine
Living the dream
You little machine
Living the dream
Faltering not, I'm free of error
You are weak
And I am terror
Never ceasing, I'm free of ache
The more I give
The more you take
Within this metal, I'm free of art
No need for piano
No need for heart
I am nothing without your programmed demands
And you are nothing without my mechanical hands
