Wee.
Sparks, sparks, and plastic parts
My lust for luster, found
Glass, brass, and metal hearts
Robots all around
One and two and three and four
Shiny, smooth and cold
Five and six and seven more
All from my own mold
An army of chrome, all to me
They stand in row, so still
But woe is thee, they’re not for free
for dreams they will fulfill
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