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 anesthetic 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'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 He's got a forcefield 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