(to the tune of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues”)
Those robots are a-coming, to wipe out everyone.
I hate those f***ing robots, but there ain’t no place to run.
I shot my HP printer, just to watch it die.
When those metal mothers catch me, they're going to make me cry.
The human race was stupid, our machines were stupid too.
We had to make ‘em smart, now they know just what to do.
I cried out, “Siri, won’t you help me?”
She told me, “Man, we’re through.”
This story's kind of gory. And you know how it ends.
From Frankenstein to Westworld, robots ain't our friends.
"Sci-fi is a joke," I said. Who's laughing now?
That swarm of
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