His world is under observation --    We monitor his station    Under faces and the places    Where he traces points of view       He picks up scraps of conversation --    Radio and radiation    From the dancers and romancers    With the answers -- but no clue       He'd love to spend the night in Zion    He's been a long while in Babylon    He'd like a lover's wings to fly on    To a tropic isle of Avalon       His world is under anaesthetic --    Subdivided and synthetic    His reliance on the giants    In the science of the day       He picks up scraps of information --    He's adept at adaptation    'Cause for strangers and arrangers    Constant change is here to stay       He's got a force field and a flexible plan    He's got a date with fate in a black sedan    He plays fast forward for as long as he can    But he won't need a bed --    He's a digital man