In a junkyard heap both old and deep
With planes and trains and a rusty jeep,
Some hobo robots just sat round a fire,
A’nursing their oil along.

Nothing in their caps but screws and scrap.
But they laughed and joked and started to clap,
Threw their parts in a kettle, fine as a fiddle
And shook it the whole night long!

They rollicked it all night long, they did!
They rollicked it all night long!
To the rattle of the metal in the middle of the kettle,
They rollicked it all night long!

They were so offbeat with their stomping feet
Though their hardware was all obsolete,
And the blue sparks flew from that robot crew
In the banging clanging din.

With many a [i]zing[/i] from a worn out spring,
They danced and sang as their parts went [i]ping![/i]
When a piece went [i]pop![/i] they picked it up
And threw it in the kettle to ring.

They rollicked it all night long, hey ho!
They clattered that scattering song!
To the rattle of the metal in the middle of the kettle
They rollicked it all night long!

By dawn of day, they’d danced away,
Just a pile of junk ‘round the fire, they say,
But they went as well as robots may,
Or any who toil along.

And someday wry, for you and I,
If we don’t fall deep or up to the sky,
We may be retahrred to an old graveyard,
A’rollicking all night long!

We’ll rollick it all night long, we will!
Our shades still going strong!
To the tones of the bones and the groaning of the stones
We’ll rollick it all night long!