Most of it's made of metal but the flesh still remembers
The hormones, they echo
It's lost half its body in battle
Its torso I've welded, its lungs they still rattle
Perverting pre-factory settings

Combining surgery with mapmaking mainframe, I've made it a monster
I've reprogrammed all its inhibitive instructions, no wrong and no right
It levitates below the lofty grave as I'm hidden from sight
Its scanners once set for parasites

Now tracking all forms of life
Sharp as a knife
Sharp as a knife
Their skin we stretch tight, a map to the night
Extract the lens from their eyes
A living scope that writhes

The cysts and the scars
They could navigate through the stars
Like a surgeon when it carves
It transfuses its flesh with their blood or it starves

Disposing of the bodies
Incineration projected through atmosphere
Oaths of my science
Abandoned with my past, but I still can hear their gasps for air

What have I done?