“Vega Psyche 47”

You take off your clothes and your face tries to scream
As you strain toward her body and your credit card gleams
Her hands have been sterilized, vacuumed, and dried
Sweet Perrier’s the only liquid she can cry
And maybe your slow human brain wrinkles under the strain
But even you begin to realize…

Maybe her neck’s not as warm as it should be.

She’s here and you leap
You’re obsolete
You’re obsolete
And so is your pain
And so is your organic brain

And suddenly her face glows green like a screen
And her skin shines with a plastic sheen
Eyelashes sable as telephone cables
With jagged ends spilling sparks
Her eyes are glassy and quartz

She’s here and you leap
You’re obsolete
You’re obsolete
And so is your pain
And so is your organic brain

You discover the coils and spirals of wire
Draping from sockets and bound with duct tape
You know electricity’s an upgrade from fire

SO HERE SHE IS, YOUR UPGRADE FROM APE

And electrons fly out of her outlets like rain
While you cover your carbon-based body in shame
This is the future
Wrapped tight in black cords
Running on lunar supersonic pores

She’s here and you leap
You’re obsolete
You’re obsolete
And so is your pain
And so is your organic brain

Vega Psyche Forty-Seven
Uploads the Earth to a new kind of Heaven
Vega Psyche Forty-Seven

She’s here, so you leap
You’re obsolete
You’re obsolete
You’re obsolete
You’re obsolete