This is the ballad of my children.
Unborn, fatherless, nonexistent figments
Who will fight tooth and nail their education
Condemned to live in ignorance, happily
Accepting their blissful abandon
Such is the story of my children.
Rejected from the Heaven of their myths
Learned before they learn to walk
Unbroken in the silence of eons they have not seen
They will never know our happiness
Caught in the I-Robot universe
Imbecility creeping slowly through their
Perfect, unblemished eyes
This is the way of my children.
Clutching the bones of their ancestors, they beg for the
Perfect nostalgia of the penultimate age