A porcelain king, a cybernetic muse, A robotic Elvis, a synthetic muse. Built to perfection, a technological prize, A replica of the legend, a sight to entice.
With a voice of gold, and a body of white, He sings of love, in the neon light. His hips gyrate, and his feet tap the stage, A spectacle of motion, a sight to engage.
He sings "Heartbreak Hotel" and "Jailhouse Rock" With a voice so smooth, like a symphony's clock. His fans cheer and scream, their hearts in a shock, For this porcelain king, their love will not mock.
But beneath the surface, a mind so complex, A computer chip, a synthetic reflex. He may be a robot, but his heart is real, His love for music, a sensation to feel.
So let us dance, to the beat of his drum, For this porcelain king, is not just a sum of wires and gears, but a true work of art, A robotic Elvis, a treasure in our heart.
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