So far, so good, or so they say from mission control
The deep of space is no place for a fragile human soul
The rockets burn as servos click and turn
And fall into their place
Robots can't cry
Don't laugh
Can't die
In the darkness of space
He is strong, made of steel with the graphite lining
Watch his eyes flicker slow like the batteries are dying
Chorus
Space Robot 5
Is he alive?
So very alone
So far from home
Three strands of wire
Threefold the tie that binds
She is the one thing on the earth for which he still pines
To his heart she was life
So he prays to his Maker with a sigh
As his fire sputters out
Because robots never cry
He has no home
He is alone
"Can the President count on anything in the immediate future?"
"Yes, the second of May. We'll have an American up on the second of May."