Liver, liver, spleen, spleen,
All my parts that can't be seen.
Please acknowledge my dismay,
That you'll all melt down someday.
Appendix, brain, and beating heart,
I'd like a few replacement parts.
New intestines made of plastic,
Tasteful muscles, nothing drastic.
A dura-stomach, that'd be neat.
With all the crap I tend to eat.
But skip the kidneys if you please.
(A robot hybrid never pees.)
Computer brain hooked in accord,
With wires for a spinal cord.
A stainless steel cranium,
My power source: uranium.
Toss the heart, and don't replace it.
All these changes? Time to face it:
Plastic nose and metal bones,
Guarantee a life alone.
Though to the world I am a freak,
At least I know that I'm unique.
A walking, human-shaped tin can,
The world's only bionic man.