They tic and toc, runned by the clock, a people, a robot people, with voices of mono hell. Click click clicking their lives to go by swell. But i love robot people, these people are my kind of people. They flow as well as my poetry, and stop... just as often to reboot, reevaluating their objective. Not subjected to pain because they don't make mistakes, mistakes make them, they function as they should, and live like No one ever could. Like proper robot people should. Fully aware of their function in life's equation.
