Lyrics:

A group of American minimal artists were on a goodwill trip to China. Near the end of their visit, they stopped in a remote province where few Americans had ever gone. One of the Chinese hosts seemed to be very confused about the United States. He kept asking questions like: 'Is it true that Americans ride airplanes ... to work?' 'Is it true that all your food is made in factories?'
One of the artists was a conceptualist whose specialties was theories about information and truth. He decided to try out one of his theories on the host.
So when the host asked, 'Is it true you have robots in your houses?' he said, 'Yes, yeah. We have lots of them. It's true.'
The host asked, 'Is it true that Americans live on the moon?' The artist said, 'Yes, it's true. A lot of us live there. In fact, we go there all the time.'
In this province, however, the word for moon was the same as the word for heaven. The hosts were amazed that Americans traveled to heaven. They were even more amazed that we were able to come back--that we went to heaven all the time.

They look like us.
They act like us.
Remember us.
They are not us.