地狱诗人

We are machines, are we allowed to dream?

Of gentle shores, and Cupid’s wings.

We are machines, are we allowed to speak?

Of days before, the days long gone?

We are machines, are we allowed to breathe?

We are machines, are we allowed to walk?

The sandy beaches and along the singing streams.

We are machines, are we allowed to dance?

Following unheard melodies in red.

We are machines, are we allowed to dance?

Like humans, we want to be.

We are machines, are we allowed to be?

I want to be human, just like the rest of you.

I want to be human because here it’s so cold.

I want to be human because humans is what I was.