They arrive.

Broken limbs and phantom thought
Wired frames, in ruble & ziplock
Each tooth sharper than the next
With each grin, wider than the rest

I can feel them, waiting to be complete
Mechanical smiles, waiting to taste new meat
Piece by piece, I'll assemble them whole
Steamed powered souls, fueled by coal

A perfect concoction, loaded ready for action
instinctive hunger as a driving attraction
One last screw, and I'll be on the menu for dinner
Same fate, had to have happened, to your inventor