I.—Chorus of Robots.

Air by J. M. Stainton.

We are Robots
Grafting hobos,
Man's machines who
Work and toil.
Three pounds nineteen
Is our value
So they say who
Make us moil.

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Youth we know not
Souls we own not,
Our way but to
Plough the soil
We plough, they reap;
We work, they sleep,
Glad we'll eschew,
This mortal coil.

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II.—Chorus of Robots.

Air : "Look for the Silver Lining."

We've found the silver lining
The clouds have disappeared from the sky;
With youth en firing,
Ideals inspiring,
We'll set the old ship to right,
And make it water-tight.
For those in the far to-morrow.
There'll be no slaving hatred and strife
For youth banishes all sorrow,
Don't crush it ere it's had a chance of youth.

Scene 3.

Duet.—Opthalmia and a Robot.

A Robot :
At V.U.C.,
There used to be
On Capping Day,
A wonderful procession.
The Student crowd
Were then allowed
One day a 'year
To shake off swat's depression.

Opthalmia :
In negligee
We roamed the Quay,
Behaving in
A way they diln't ought to.
But times have changed
And it's now arranged
If they don't behave,
They'll bloomin' well be taught to.

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Both :
Oh, give us back our Capping Procession,
A diversion that was must felicitous.

Chorus :
Felicitous.

Both :
Oh, give us back this tiny concession,
Of our conduct why should you make such a fuss.

Chorus :
Such a fuss.

Both:
If youth on our part is a defect,
That's where we'll have some cause to disagree.

Chorus :
Disagree.

Both :
Of course we can never be perfect.
But we're as perfect as we're able to be.

Chorus :
Able to be.

Both :
Of course we can never be perfect,
But we're as perfect as we're able to be.

All sing :
Oh, give us back, etc.