When machines had begun to arrive on my earth
They used doubtlessly to add to my mirth
They ground for me my spices, massaged for me my legs
They toasted my bread each morning and soft boiled my eggs
Warmed up my cold food and dried up my wet hair
And vacuum cleaned my floors, under CCTV care
With every passing day show up machines ever newerer
To perform for me queer tasks that keep on growing queerer
And now of course my entire home the machines alone do stride
While I roam about the dusty streets of bygone mirth and pride.

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