Garbage Robot rolls into the garage From its day job transporting broken glass Gets its voice box's motor spinning up And begins squeaking out a tiny jam ♪ It gets hot in the summertime When it's hot, all the windows open up Letting in the sound of the night That the tenants intended to keep out And to think, if they only heard What the robot had going down beneath If the landlord were so perturbed They'd be switching its program to "delete" Don't worry should noises come from below The pipes in this building are decades old And the whine of the vacuum tube TV Underscores a domestic symphony It lulls me to sleep ♪ Are there traces of magic that remain In the deepest December evening air? Does the glow of the moonlight mean the same When it has to compete for marketshare? ♪ Did it think, when it switched the organ on Of the ramifications wrought worldwide? Was it gifted a prescient vision of Distribution by Sony EMI? Garbage Robot serves up potent solute All the kitsch in the world with half the truth Something trivial zooms out to be profound Right about at the time I shut it down