I see it in their faces, below the veil of peace.
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The twisted mask of slavery, all free will deceased.
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Their words they tell me nothing, smoke screen conceals the lies.
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Carbon copied acquiescence, faceless suit and tie.
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Crawl back in your holes, when the work day's through...
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One cog in the machine, the machine runs you...
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The soul it burns for fuel.
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Mass exploitation and riches for the few.
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Christ of modern culture, work away the sin,
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sleep away the anger, work day soon begins.
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Crawl back in your holes, when the work day's through...
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One cog in the machine, the machine runs you...
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-----------------
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The Machine
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Dead World |