reto

reto, you're a technical whiz, masturbating with computers, for a legion of kids. reto, you're a solid state, a microchip and designer tape. oh reto, where did you come from?, with transistors and a keyboard, you're a virtual gun. reto, is there something wrong?, the bigger wired robot, is still using its probe, when life's behind the screen, of an agorophobe. oh reto, artificial life, a new computer and a brand new wife. oh reto, can you process this?, a girlfriend in a coma having cyber sex. gamble it away with computer chips. oh no, knowing where we're going, oh reto, are you future smart?, fiber optics cybercloptic digital heart. reto, can you cypher me?, eight zero two eleven b. oh reto, it's a stripped down world, like muriatic acid in a toilet bowl. reto, it's an sos, we're microwaving signals like a scientist. our bit-rate is shrinking to a non-existant. oh no, knowing where we're going, where do we go, reto?