The Machine Cannot Forget
Prosolar Mechanics
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Mechanics are desperate like me.
Unrehearsed even though
Thousands of hours in places like these.
Adults are desperate and mean
Overdressed even though
Thousands of dollars and magazines
Tripping wires long ago dead
So speech flows and reaches sorrows.
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Adults are desperate like mechanics
Marooned for life on distant planets
Babies born of time and panic
What i would do if i'd remember to.
Humans are born and then they're gone
Infinite worlds maintained in one
We contact none.
Adults are distant, lost on planets
Marooned for life by mathematics
Equations solving time with panic
What i would do if i'd remember to.