it's like staring at an ocean robbed of all emotionnmachines in our midst but their legs are all brokenni've got this notion that i'm gonna repairnall the mechanisms in you that entice you to standnthere's a bug in the air, a snag in your movementnyour every move could really use some improvementnwell we are the processnwe're going to stop thisnget ready to movenwhile we blow the top off itnnput your hands by your side and don't crack a smilenor move one inch 'cause we're taking the milento feel it is to move and we all know you don't dancennnothing's changed, everyone forgets our namenbut they are not the ones to blame nnothing's changed, molecules still rearrangenthe world at large has gone insanensomething's wrong, when no one sings their favorite songsnwhat do we do when they're all gone?