In metal skin they toil and trot, with gears that never tire or rot. Like a clock's ticking heart, a helping hand that's hard to stop.

I am an armoured army of thousands, standing on a single leg and blindly chasing a golden god. When youth leaves me, my neck stiffens into a permanent morning prayer, and my heavy head bows to yield a bounty of black-and-white shields. What am I?

I was built to fly, yet someone insists on holding me back.

This Muppet scientist might use these when he's doing his experiments

Crunching loudly under foot, this stoney mix renders stealth moot.