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He is alone again
His left hand is dead
The sun shines on his bed
His left eye is red
Walking machine with no highs
Programmed for constant lows
He turns the walk mode on
This robot has got the blues
The room is hollow
Like his metallic head
The hallway is dark
Like his rusty heart
Walking machine with no highs
Programmed for constant lows
He turns the walk mode off
The robot has got the blues
Walking machines with no highs
Programmed for constant lows
He turns the smile mode on
This function fails again...
