the rain here
somehow touches shoulders
never hidden faces
but always getting colder

so inside must be better
to watch through darkened screens
the rusting of the metal
the walking of machines

my pencil stains my hands
with something just like lead
keep looking out the window
with something just like dread

they've come to you in numbers
to give you just one choice
to sit in empty silence
or join their just one voice

now to see it all
what's more, to hear it said
there's cold light behind you
and dark warmth ahead

choose blindness and comfort
or sight with searing pain
here they are, they come
the robots rise again.