Metal Hand

from by Supercommuter

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lyrics

Metal hand grabs wooden grip then finger wraps around, people listen.
Always back down in my vision, but I’m bound by indecision.
Never really finish anything I start. This time wasn’t similar at all.
Got the inclination, never really fought it.
Saw the shiny zapper, can’t believe I bought it.

Metal hand grabs wooden grip then finger wraps around, people listen.
Theorize how they’ll behave but realize no one will save them.
I don’t have a lot of balances, check, safeguards, or emergency specs.
They don’t really think that I exist.
They’ll believe when I don’t miss.

Forget that for now, let’s go back 20 hours.
Take a look at callous people and just how this
could have happened, used me for a task and
I could watch them laughing as I’m walking past them.
So I start pulling plugs, two million plus
hibernating bots, not a bit of rust.
Programming locked. No way I can stop.
Shuddering with shock, I watch the bodies drop.

Metal hand grabs wooden grip then finger wraps around, people listen.
Eyes widen, heads turn and mouths drop and now they’re learning.

Now I herd them to the middle of the room and
watch them squirm and sweat and wonder what I’m doing.
I can sit forever, watch nobody moving.
They can wish but never see their fate improving.
People don’t remember what they did to me but
soon enough I’ll turn them into true believers.
Take my shiny zapper, point it at the crowd
and I can see them understand and start to shout and
now they’re begging to me about everything and
listing reasons why that they should not stop breathing.
I just stare ahead and plan on never leaving.
I may not have emotion, I can still get even.
I can still remember. I can still compute it.
No one in the room’s attempting to dispute it.
This is what I needed, courage getting bigger.
Turn the zapper to myself and pull the trigg--

credits

from Supercommuter, released July 21, 2009

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about

Supercommuter Seattle, Washington

100% of Supercommuter’s music is written while creeping along State Road 520, in the peak moments of rush hour traffic in the Pacific Northwest. Stenobot composes beats on a classic Game Boy while nestled in the comfort of a King County Metro bus. Optimus Rhyme’s Wheelie Cyberman adds words while piloting a Prius toward an ever-present ergonomic chair. Tron Juan pieces it all together. ... more

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