Cyborg! Cyborg! Blazing bright
Striding through the neon night
What death-trapped fleshy hand or eye
Has such chroméd symmetry?
In what furnace under skies
Were smelted thine firey eyes?
To what beauty dare aspire?
What blessing in holy fires?
And your shoulder, O! what art!
Forged your many chambered heart?
And then, when your buttons beeped
What fragile hand made your feet?
What the OS? What the brand?
What wonders yours to command?
What the will? What hard gasp
Did in terror watch your clasp?
O'erhead shuttles burned like spears
It crushed your hand, watched your tears,
And did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made Dolly, make thee?
Cyborg! Cyborg! Blazing bright
Striding through the neon night
What death-trapped fleshy hand or eye
Knows such chroméd symmetry?
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