»MenschMaschine. A poem from me.«

This is a poem I wrote, the title (Man-Machine) doesn't really have to do with the matrix, it is the name of a song (where i got the idea from) but anyways, here is.

MenschMaschine
By: Dakota Obie

Machines of flesh
Bodies made of steel
Perfect hearts beat fresh
Working with such a zeal.

They run precise
They run exact
They know no vice
They know howto act

Machines of the age
The nerves made of steel
Never in a rage
nothing ever to feel.

For prosperity and capital
For a better Earth
Work you shall
Dont think, serve!

Don't think, serve
Man-machine

Machines of flesh
The bodies made of blood
Work makes you fresh
To the work stations, scud!

They don't tire of standing
They don't get sick
Never is work too demanding
Nothing cant be done too quick

Machines of metal
Engines of the age
Glad to work never to settle
even for the pittiest of wage

They lead the way
marching close together in step
So happy, so gray
Go machine, yep!

Don't think, serve
Man-machine