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."