"She dwells with Beauty-Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung." (keats)

don't you know who we are
... i am not human, i am robot

i got pair of brand new sneakers on my feet
phone in my pocket plays my theme for me
keys on my belt are jingling to the beat
pumpin from a passing automobile
"Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung."

don't you know who we are
don't you know who i am
... i am not human, i am robot