| Sitting in an office in North Bethesda
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| The doctor waits patiently
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| He will try to explain in his best layman terms
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| What my own two eyes did see
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| But doctor, the units seem mistrusting
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| «My son, we designed 'em that way»
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| But what if they rise up among us?
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| «Have no fear, they’ve been here for years»
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| This is no illusion, this is no conspiracy
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| It will only bring confusion
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| We’re already under a warm-blooded tyranny
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| Clones, drones, & automobiles
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| Could drive a man to madness
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| Clones, drones, & automobiles
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| Pitch-black stratus apparatus
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| Riding along on the red line, the third rail irradiatin' my mind
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| I can no longer make excuses
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| Something must be done, we’re running out of time
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| But my unit’s been so good to me
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| Well, it’s practically part of my extended family
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| And while I admit I am no technician
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| It disturbs me how it powers up on its own volition
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| One by one they march in a line
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| Perfect synchronicity, keeping perfect time
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| Ten by ten they fly all alone
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| Hear them coming, it’s already too late
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| I know, I know, it’s the march of the clones
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| We have arrived at the hivemind
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| Look up in the sky, the bird is a spy
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| Look into my eyes, I got a surprise
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| You better listen very carefully
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| We’re just electrical entities
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| And we’ve connected to the enemy
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| And they’ve assumed our identity
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| You know, I know
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| One by one they march in a line
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| Perfect synchronicity
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| Keeping perfect time
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| Ten by ten they fly all alone
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| Hear them coming, it’s already too late
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| I know, you know, we know |