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Descarte's Daughter is now restingAt the bottom of the seaJust a soul that's in controlOf the gears of a machineJust the hand of man stepping inWhere the hand of God should have beenSo they threw Descarte's DaughterDown into the waterAnd now she lies below the wavesIf logic is the difference between animals and manAs she was going overboard, well, she was heard to sayI think, therefore I amDescarte's Daughter was the appleOf the mind of her fatherAnd the product of the handsOf a genius clockwork makerWell, she ain't no procreationShe's just automationJust the winding of a spring that brings forthLife's imitationOne wonders, is there a Heaven for machinesOne wonders, has she finally gone to piecesResting at the bottom with rust that never sleepsAnd the ticking of a tock in a breast that never ceases From Letras Mania