Futurama

Lyrics to "My Broken Friend" as written People say my broken friend is useless. But I say his mind is free. There's lots of things my mangled robot friend could be. Well he could make a good hat rack, he only has to stand there. Or a cheap doorstop, he doesn't need to move. Or a great big giant thermos with a twist off top, that would be good for soup. He could be a storage closet for outdated pants. I like 'em tight. My broken friend could do it all, just give him a chance. That robot has a tragic secret, that I'd like to share. My broken friend is closer to me than an ass to a chair. That robot's name I never told you... ...you could not forsee. I'll say it loud and sing it proud, his name is you and me. Don't meld me down into a crowbar, it suffers alone, just 'cause I can't move my arms and legs. Or me into a trash can, Just 'cause I can't cook you ham and eggs. Don't crush me into an anchor, just 'cause I can't jump and dance and sing. I'm telling you, my broken friend... ...Put your hands in the air like you just don't care! I'm telling you, my broken friend, can do most anything! Yeah!

Fry: C'mon, Bender. If you're done scamming Beck, we're heading home.

Bender: I'm really sorry I lied, Beck. All I ever wanted was to make music with you. I never meant to hurt anyone, or help anyone. Beck: Bender, that's some played-out, new-jack, horse crap... But I know you don't mean it so apology accepted. Bender: So, I can, uh, keep the cheque? Garfunkel: Over my dead career!

Bender: Oh, no! I forgot this is a hoverbridge. Leela: And I forgot this isn't a hovercar. Fry: Is any of that a problem? Zoidberg: Not if you've lived a life without regret.

Bender: Well, everyone, prepare to get your guts kicked out by folk singers.

Bender: Curse my natural showmanship! Robot #1: You big, fat fraud! You're not really broken! Robot #2: But you will be in a minute! Bum-rush the stage!

Hippie #1: Wow, look at the colours. These'll go great with my soul. Zoidberg: Glad you like them. I've been making fine jewellery for years, apparently. Hippie #2: I'll take three. Hippie #3: Give me one, man! Hippie #4: I'll trade you a bad poem!

Bender: You know, when I first got broken, I thought my life was over. But look at me now: I've got fame, money, groupies, and it's all thanks to being completely immobilised. That's why I'll be proud to go up on stage tomorrow and say, "Look at me, world, I am a broken robot!". Fry: Bender, you can move! You're cured! Bender: Oh, crap! It's a miracle!

Leela: This coming-together of superstars really means a lot to you, doesn't it, Bender? Bender: Uh-huh. Helping my defective brothers is the first thing I've ever cared about, even the slightest bit.

Announcer #1: Tuesday, Golden Gate Park, the monsters of vaguely-folkish alterna-rock will strum your brains out at Bend-Aid! Featuring Beck, Wailing Fungus and special guest, Bender! Announcer #2: A portion of the proceeds might go to help broken robots.

Fry: Wow, I forgot about TV. Living free on the road, you realise how much better life is without it. Well, let's see what's on.

Leela: Mind if we crash here tonight? The colours in the van are keeping us awake. Bender: Alright, but hands off the minibar.

Beck: I wish I could help raise awareness about broken robots. But what can I do? I only weigh eight pounds. Bender: Wait a minute, you know lots of rock stars, and most of them like to look like they care about things! Beck: We can all get together for a big benefit concert in San Francisco! Bender: And we could call it "Bend-Aid", after me, Bender! Beck: And you can sing that song you're writing! Bender: And I'll let you sing backup! But remember who the star is. Me: Bender.

Bender: That is so wrong. They can't just melt down broken robots. Not right when they're kissing my ass. Beck: Whoa, dog. Just cold chill. You know, when I'm upset, I write a song about it. Like when I wrote Devil's Haircut, I was feeling really- What's that song about? Bender: Hey, yeah, I could write a song! With real words, not phoney ones like "odelay". Beck: "Odelay" is a word. Just look it up in the Becktionary.

Bender: Whoa, check out all those broken robots. Howdy, fellas! Robot #1: I don't believe my broken eyes! It's Bender, the washboard player! Hey, man, we caught your concert from here. Robot #2: You rock! Fembot: Oh, oh, Bender! Sign my chest! It's in that bin behind me.

Beck: Bender, that was the best 40-minute washboard solo I've ever heard. And the parts when I was awake blew my mind.

Amy: One bowl of Jell-O knuckles, please. Barman: That'll be three pick-e-tures of George Washington. Amy: Oh, no! My beautiful money. Leela: It got ruined in the wash. Fry: Mine too, even my change.

Zoidberg: Bad news, friends. My shell ran. Amy: Zoidberg, you idiot, my outfit. It's, it's- Leela: Kinda cool. Fry: Yeah, I like it. Amy: Me too, now that I'm used to it. Zoidberg: Then it was all on purpose! You're lucky to have Zoidberg as a friend. But cross me, and I'll turn on you like that!

Beck: Come on, move it! We gotta get to the concert and make the audience wait for it at the start.

Fry: Hey, I have an idea. Who wants to cram in my van and follow Bender on tour and live there, in the van? Zoidberg: Oh, I don't know, Fry. I think I'm too poor to follow a band around in a van.

Beck: Alright, congratulations, my friend. Bender: Why? 'Cause I can make annoying noises? Beck: Exactly. I use those all the time in my music. Bender, I want you to become my new washboard player.

Bender: Oh, my God, you're Beck! I'd get up to shake your hand and steal your wallet but my crappy body crapped out on me. Beck: Don't take it so hard. I used to miss my body too but then I fished this mannequin out of the 92c Store dumpster. Bender: Wow. We've sure got a lot in common, Beck. I always dreamed of being a musician-poet who transcends genres even as he re-invents them, just like you.

Bender: Hey, the blues. The tragic sound of other people's suffering. That's kind of a pick-me-up.

Patchcord Adams: Hey, here's a giggle! Did you hear why they're using Windows 3000 as a prison guard? Fry: No, why? Patchcord Adams: 'Cause it always locks up. Bender: For the love of God, somebody kick his ass!

Doctor: Bender, your hydraulics are shot. You'll never move again. Bender: You mean... Doctor(to Farnsworth): I'm sorry, you'll have to get a new one. Fry: Oh, no! This is terrible. Zoidberg: Poor Bender. Farnsworth: Well, let's drag him to the kerb. Fry: Wait a minute, Bender is my best friend. We can't just dump him in the gutter like Grandma's ashes.

Bender: Jimmy cracked corn and I don't care, Cause the master's gone away. Zoidberg: It's toe-tapping-ly tragic.

Leela: Bender, lift it up to the can opener. Bender: Oh, no! I'm not going near it. Last time, that magnetic psycho nearly cut my head off. Fry: Oh, right. Plus, the magnet screws up your inhibition unit and makes you sing folk songs. Bender: What? Who said anything about me secretly wanting to be a folk singer? How ridiculous. Fry: Bender, if you don't open that can right now, your fear will own you, and nothing that can opener could ever do would be worse than that. Bender: OK, OK, I can do this. It's time to take life by the cans.

Amy: Wow, neat. Hermes: It's a triumph of free-spirited German engineering. Amy: Hey, the speedometer only goes up to 80. This thing can't go faster than 80,000 miles an hour? Fry: No, it can't, but it's got a driver's-side floor and an 8-track player with genuine mono sound.

Leela: What's that? One of those Jefferson Starships I've heard so much about? Fry: It's called a van, and in light of the fact that it's not a-rockin', I invite you to come a-knockin'!

Bender: What's that? One of those Led Zeppelins I've heard so much about? Fry: No, it's an old Volkswagen van. Hey, Mister? Mind if I take this old van? Sal: Sure. You wanna dump the corpses out of theres, it's yourses. Fry: Yeah, yeah, I've gotten used cars before.

Bender: Froggy went a-courtin' and he did ride, uh-huh, uh-huh Well, Froggy went a-courtin' and he did ride, Blah, blah, blah, something, Bender is great! Froggy went a-courtin' and Bender is great, uh-huh!

Beck: That song doesn't usually last three hours, but we got into a serious thing... and I forgot how it ended.

(Bender sticks a magnet on his head) Bender: Fry cracked corn, and I dont care; Leela cracked corn, I still don't care; Bender cracked corn, and he is greaaat... take that you stupid corn!

Hermes: Congratulations Bender, you got mangled and now you're a folk singer. Both our dreams came true!

Leela: Gas was an environmental disaster, anyway. Now, we use alternative fuels. Fry: Like what? Leela: Whale oil.

Doctor: This is the worst part of the job. Bender: What is it? Good news!?

Patchcord Adams: What's the matter? Can't move your arms? Bender: Obviously not or I'd be strangling you!