Once I was a little squirt,
Silver buttons on my shirt,
I’d climb atop my wooden steed,
Be quickly off with lightening speed.
I’d ride the range from east to west,
A silver star pinned on my chest,
A holstered gun in easy reach,
Villains to catch and lessons to teach.
On winter days and summer nights,
Bar room brawls and wild gun fights,
My lawman life would twist and spin,
Nary a doubt about who would win.
The black hats fell; the white hats stood.
Justice prevailed; evil bested by good.
Rules were simple, no room for doubt.
Break the law, you get taken out.
There comes the wooden steed and another little squirt.
A star and silver buttons on his shirt.
Black hats and hooligans don’t tarry long round here.
He’s the law; the bad guys shake from fear.
I think about a world of only right or wrong,
A binomial reality where good and bad belong.
White hats and black, there’s nothing in between.
A little squirt as lawman, we all can play the scene.
No misunderstanding, all know what to say,
No honest disagreement, no mediating gray.
The good guys and bad, Detectable at a glance.
Everyone in step, familiar with the dance.
Nirvana? Perfection? The ultimate delight?
Utopia at last? We finally got it right?
Says android 1 to android 2, “Ho Do Mo do so.”
Says Android 2 to android 1, “So Do Mo do ho.”