Metal Legs and Wooden Face

Look, look at those wondrous machines there, With the metal legs and the wooden face. See the sneer and melancholy stare. Look at how they move in step with their merry dance. Oh, oh, they speak with a fluid British tongue. Oh, oh, their rhetoric is sure a choice pick, But their malicious eyes and moving lips in song Betrays the evil that lies in their wick. Ten million of them lurk in our alleyways, Now part of this world’s chaos In their maddening, clattering sway, Mimicking us in their mumbling chorus. For rust won’t destroy them, Nor fire, nor riot, nor flood. We were their gods but we became their slave As we die in the fiery gleam of their mayhem. We cry at this monstrous immortality we created!