If I could only get the tools, the stimuli and

Molecules, frozen moments in time

I could be the archetype, a credit to the

Genotype, re-program your mind



But the storybook sages fill their pages

Hiding from the warming sun

Limitless distractions give no pause to distort a 

Precious delusion



Did you see the moralist retort and raise his fist

"You can't make man a machine!"

I can see the edifice crumbling in foggy mist, 

Razed by discovery



But the storybook sages fill their pages

Hiding from the warming sun

Limitless distractions give no pause to distort a

Precious delusion