The scientists at CERN

Were violently divided

Is it pronounced ′gwee-dance'Or is it pronounced ′gwhy-dance'?

Physically fightin' round

The Large Hadron Collider

When suddenly a sound

Comes rumblin′ from inside her

The boss of science opens up the lid

And from within a metal thing

Comes out with arms and legs and shit

It pokes a trumpet from its head

Opens up its mouth and says

(Trumpet noises)

FunkBot

Ten thousand

(I′m a funky robot)

He travelled here through time and space

To fix the shit that needs sorting

FunkBot

Ten thousand

(Obey the funk)

The scientists put down their fists

And all take up the jazz organ

Two wicked criminials

Doing the unthinkable

Robbing a civilian

The pinnacle of pitiful

He's acting tough but they call his bluff

Saying "Give us your stuff or we′ll kill you and stuff"

But suddenly a sound comes from behind

A funky riff giving perfect time

(Trumpet noises)

FunkBot

Ten thousand

(I'm a funky robot)

The thugs became masseuses and

Both gave the man a nice facial

FunkBot

So arousing

(Obey the funk)

Just plug him in and you′ll see all

His sexy hip thrust gyrations

(Funky Robot Noises)

When life gets tough and causes you to fret

If you're feeling overwhelmed by insurmountable consumer debt

Don′t fret on taxes, don't stress with rent bills

FunkBot's got saxes in place of his genitals

(Trumpet noises)

(Get down!)

FunkBot

Ten thousand

(I′m a funky robot)

Thank you, FunkBot, that lick was nice

But do you have any actual financial advice?

FunkBot

FunkBot?

(Funk. Funky. Funk.)

A man lies dying on the floor

He′s broken ten ribs, maybe more

FunkBot to the rescue, damn

That's one hell of a funky jam!

(Funk)

FunkBot

Funk Robot, please, I′m dying

Do you have any... any kind of medical equipment?

(I'm a funky robot)

Don′t pull out a marimba! (FunkBot)

I don't need a marimba in here.

I don′t need any kind of other instrument!

Help! Argh, it hurts (FunkBot)

This is not how I was expecting to go out.

With a creepy-ass robot just dancing next to my corpse.

Could you at least look me in the eye when I'm dying?

Ugh damn, geeze Louise!

Who even made you? Are you, you like, part of a race?

Of other funk robots?

Who, you-you just stand there

Argh god, my spleen!

Who just stand there while

People are dying from spleen and rib injuries?

That's not okay!

I′m not, I′m not okay with this funk robot.

Just, take a look at yourself as a species!