Robot - Brazzaville (布拉扎维)

Written by：David Arthur Brown/Vera Musaelyan/Zemfira Ramazanova

People used to ride horses

They moved on to cars

Then on to big jet planes and

Rockets to the stars

Why's my soul any different

Trapped in this delicate skin

I'd rather be made of titanium

And free of all my sins

I'd rather be a robot

I'd rather be a robot

I'd rather be a robot

While I'm in this world

I'd rather be a robot writing poems

On a Sunday afternoon

Prity stans so nonvence chimni

Ika crova stanne

Iauje riraute ustaw

Pine noga praste

Hoji

Smmi noa samini

Espa coueste howte

Yaha tus stapti bihas musa

Waio atkre bian me praze

People are fragile

And so full of fear

Greed rage and envy

Wonderin' why we're here

Robots are humble

An empathetic lot

They aren't constantly tortured

By the instincts that we've got

I'd rather be a robot

I'd rather be a robot

I'd rather be a robot

While I'm in this world

I'd rather be a robot writing poems

On a Sunday afternoon