Lyric Robot Hell
Robot Devil: Gentlemen?
[Music starts]
Bender: Aw, crap, singing. Mind if I smoke?
Robot Devil: Cigar s are evil, you won t miss em. We ll find ways to simulate that smell. What a sorry fella! Rolled up and smoked like a collicella, here on level one of Robot Hell!
Gambling s wrong and so is cheating, so is forging phony I.O.U.s. Let s let Lady Luck decide what type of torture s justified, I m pit force here on level two!
Ooh, deep-fried robot!
Bender: Just tell me why!
Robot Devil: Just read this fifty-five page warrant.
Bender: There must be robots worse than I!
Robot Devil: We checked around, there really aren t.
Bender: Then please let me explain, my crimes were merely boyish pranks.
Robot Devil: You stole from boy scouts, nuns and banks!
Bender: Aw, don t blame me, blame my upbringing!
Robot Devil: Please stop sinning while I m singing!
Selling bootleg tapes is wrong, musicians need that income to survive.
Beastie Boys: Hey, Bender gonna make some noise! With your hard drive scratched by the Beastie Boys!
(Record scratching sounds)
That s what-cha what-cha what-cha get on level five!
Fry: I don t feel well!
Leela: It s up to us to rescue him.
Fry: Maybe he likes it here in hell?
Leela: It s us who tempted him to sin.
Fry: Maybe he s back at the motel?
Leela: Come on, Fry, don t be scared! I m sure at least one of us will be spared, so sit back and enjoy the ride.
Fry: My ass has blisters from the slide!
Robot Devil: Fencing diamonds, fixing cockfights, publishing indecent magazines. You ll pay for every crime! Knee-deep in electric slime! You ll suffer till the end of time, enduring tortures, most of which rhyme, trapped forever, here in Robot Hell!
[Music starts]
Bender: Aw, crap, singing. Mind if I smoke?
Robot Devil: Cigar s are evil, you won t miss em. We ll find ways to simulate that smell. What a sorry fella! Rolled up and smoked like a collicella, here on level one of Robot Hell!
Gambling s wrong and so is cheating, so is forging phony I.O.U.s. Let s let Lady Luck decide what type of torture s justified, I m pit force here on level two!
Ooh, deep-fried robot!
Bender: Just tell me why!
Robot Devil: Just read this fifty-five page warrant.
Bender: There must be robots worse than I!
Robot Devil: We checked around, there really aren t.
Bender: Then please let me explain, my crimes were merely boyish pranks.
Robot Devil: You stole from boy scouts, nuns and banks!
Bender: Aw, don t blame me, blame my upbringing!
Robot Devil: Please stop sinning while I m singing!
Selling bootleg tapes is wrong, musicians need that income to survive.
Beastie Boys: Hey, Bender gonna make some noise! With your hard drive scratched by the Beastie Boys!
(Record scratching sounds)
That s what-cha what-cha what-cha get on level five!
Fry: I don t feel well!
Leela: It s up to us to rescue him.
Fry: Maybe he likes it here in hell?
Leela: It s us who tempted him to sin.
Fry: Maybe he s back at the motel?
Leela: Come on, Fry, don t be scared! I m sure at least one of us will be spared, so sit back and enjoy the ride.
Fry: My ass has blisters from the slide!
Robot Devil: Fencing diamonds, fixing cockfights, publishing indecent magazines. You ll pay for every crime! Knee-deep in electric slime! You ll suffer till the end of time, enduring tortures, most of which rhyme, trapped forever, here in Robot Hell!
