What you see is a machine, skin and bone and blood,
Made by the infinite being, constructed out of mud.

Limbs clothed in skin, Actuated from within.

Electrically controlled, Slowly getting old.

Healthy strong and tall, Broken by a fall.

Flesh together sown, Mended on its own.

Your eyes will only ever see, as far as light will let,
But soul resides in this machine, alive and free from debt!

So look ye now with spirit eyes upon this mortal man,
And see ye now the hidden truth, that flesh eyes never can.