(no subject)

[machina_sonata]

Was Asimov right, do these machines dream?
I am tempted to say yes
I've heard the metal winds they make
In the rafters above this prison
This deserted town of chrome
In this room, am I at home?

The wind picks up
And I can hear the words this wasteland keeps to itself
There's a language subconscious, sub-dermal
It's a pounding that's coursing through veins
In my eyes and in my legs and through my heart
My mind is a structure, these sounds are sympathetic
And demolition has been slowed down for the camera

In this town that will fall to rust
Lonely is a lie, there is nothing but alone
And those who won't accept it
There's a song under this machinal noise
It's penetrating this city, this blasted battleground
Bereft of people but not of life
Because I hear them, the speaking of the pistons in this prison
Or I think I do - they're in my head at least
My room's turning into walls as the engines hum
I've put a hand through the plaster and now it's stained red
Again, again, again

Will I get it or am I just breaking down?
Would Asimov believe this song I'm hearing?
Why can't I open my door to the world I see
Outside the tenement that imprisons me?