My biological clock doesn't need to be winded up

One of our major problems is that we can't differentiate
An artificial life form from an authentic living one.
We are so stupid that we change real
Dead flowers for eternal plastic violets.
There is only one explanation. We prefer a rustic replica,
With washed colours because it's life will be over when we decide it.
We are some kind of god in this case.
We make our own rules to escape from reality,
Where real things get to a real end, determined by nature.
We can't decide our future, we can't plan it.
Everywhere we go, everytime we try to cheat destiny we fail.
We are going to die and everybody knows that,
But no one knows when. That's the point.
We want to be immortal, but when our biological clock is damaged,
No one can repair it.

Metal and plastic bones

My bones are made of plastic
And i am a really different one tonight
Good looking but no human anymore

I am a 23rd century product
A rebuilt one that can't die
I have a lot to do and a lot to say

I am back because no one assumed my importance
In my time
This time
The time when i first lived

I come from the future
And i have to cure the past
I don't want to be a victim of my time

My bones are made of steel
And i've come to take my place
Right now
When everybody should have known my name
Because i am the centre of universe

Now that i'm back
And i am more machine than human being
I realice no one needs me

And i see my long trip back from the 23rd century
Was a waste of time
Because here in 1993
No one wants to be immortal