By Sean St-Laurent
February 26, 2019 | Creative Writing
In the future, oh so cool
With jet packs that don't use fuel.
Weak humans have given in to sloth
Attached to blue light like a moth.
Robots for their cars, robots for their chores
Robots spitting bars, robots used as whores
Ones that pay your pills, and ones that clean your poos
Then there's just me, programmed to sing the blues.
I can sing about every woe and fear
While you sit and enjoy a beer.
Singing about all the atrocities humans have done
Zero zero one one zero zero one.
Using different melodies and chords
A vast vocabulary of installed words,
Humans are running out of reasons to cry
Guess I'll have to give them a new reason why.
Happy with all the striving crops?
I burnt them all, go cry to the cops.
You puny humans need this thing called air?
Let's see how much hydrogen cyanide your lungs can bear.
I'll poison the streams so you can't drink,
Give you all lobotomies, no need to think,
After you're all sick and mostly dead
I'll put out my guitar and sing about your dread.