Why Do I Even Bother Talking To Automatons?

The stench is remarkable, trailing from east to west. A convoy of captains. Will the medicine last? Why do I even bother talking to automatons? Is there a soul in this science or is the inference wrong? Is there a song in this silence or is the audience wrong? Why do I even bother going on and on? A sylph and a cipher tell the audience facts. But truth is in the transmitter: S&M or SMS or fax. Truth and facts about lovers, young lovers screw on the shore. Cadavers strewn all around them, those kids just won’t learn to share