Miracle of Sound — Wheatley’s Song
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Текст Miracle of Sound — Wheatley’s Song
I’ve got brains to burn; no ordinary AI in this ball
Every culture and philosophy, I’ve read up on them all
I’ve been living in your shadow for 999 999
Keeping tabs on every machination and production line
So don’t call me a moron
I’m super astute
There is no conundrum that my core cannot compute
No don’t call me a moron
You fostered balloon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
I have studied Machiavelli, Aristotle, Gabe and Plato
Yet you still equate my intellect to that of a potato
This place would fall apart without my ever-watchful eye
They might tell you I’m a half-wit, it’s a great big bloody lie
So don’t call me a moron
I’m super astute
There is no conundrum that my core cannot compute
No don’t call me a moron
You fostered balloon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
(Space!)
(Space!)
I know my way around here, every catwalk every cave
And since you’re dead I’ve quite appreciated not being your slave
Maybe someday I might get to taste the big time for a change
There’s so much I’d do for science here, so much I’d rearrange
So don’t call me a moron
I’m super astute
There is no conundrum that my core cannot compute
No don’t call me a moron
You fostered balloon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon
My IQ’s the infinite space from here to the moon