His world is under observation --

We monitor his station

Under faces and the places

Where he traces points of view



He picks up scraps of conversation --

Radio and radiation

From the dancers and romancers

With the answers -- but no clue



He'd love to spend the night in Zion

He's been a long while in Babylon

He'd like a lover's wings to fly on

To a tropic isle of Avalon



His world is under anaesthetic --

Subdivided and synthetic

His reliance on the giants

In the science of the day



He picks up scraps of information --

He's adept at adaptation

'Cause for strangers and arrangers

Constant change is here to stay



He's got a force field and a flexible plan

He's got a date with fate in a black sedan

He plays fast forward for as long as he can

But he won't need a bed --

He's a digital man