Wrought of blind innocence like children playing with dolls
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Considering not technology of convenience would forever rule our lives
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The machine is dark and distant yet we all fall in line
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For it controls who gets the scraps; When
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We are pounded with fear
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Day in day out enslaved to its foul ends with no sign of hope at all
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Thurty X's and thirty more the fallen a heap of rot in my head
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Faceless, nameless, bug-eyed, ugly over and over, the voices command
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Banging fraps on my door! Never before, never before
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I'm losing control can't tell if it's real or in my mind
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Lost in a quagmire of monotony we see the slaves
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Control, predestination no avow
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When all paths and roads lead toward no escape we will
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Rise or fall by the wayside of this storm
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Should I answer? The wait may be over
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They must be here for me they will take me to punishment
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Sweat off the fear; breath frapping again and again
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Pulse acceleration to burst the door unlocks and opens (not by my hand)
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In silence I freeze this night silhoutted by hallway light
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Blurred by terror, pulse of force blood turns cold, so much worse
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We are pounded with fear
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Day in day out enslaved to its foul ends
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With no sign of hope at all
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When all paths and roads lead toward no escape
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We will rise or fall by the wayside of this storm
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Wrath Pounding
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Wrath Pounding
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Axis Of Advance |