Inert Piece from Neon Overlord by Porn For Borgs

When does one find the time
to draw the lines of chalk?
Reflections of sun across the scraps of my friend
Now dead in the yard.

Strewn about along the streets.
The fragments of synthetic beings.
Are bloodied bone and gears so different
when the picture they paint is so clear?

Picking up the pieces for recycling.
Try to reconstruct something that used to be.
Go back inside and lock your windows and your doors.
Misidentify this pain of loss for something more.

Strewn about along the streets.
The fragments of synthetic beings.
Are bloodied bone and gears so different
when the picture they paint is so
Cruel to see a pointless death
Don't ever need, a wasted breath
These machines are fighting for their freedom
So the guilt is on our own heads.

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