Poor atlas

I'm building a body
From balsam and ash
I'm building a body with
No god attached

I'm building a body
From blueprints in Braille
I'm building a body
Where our design had failed
There's a book full of plans
At the feet of poor Atlas

Titlled "For Man"
But the architects only drew blanks
Now there's nowhere to go
But go back, go back, go back, go back