The Machine - Dead World

I see it in their faces, below the veil of peace

The twisted mask of slavery, all free will deceased

Their words they tell me nothing, smoke screen conceals the lies

Carbon copied acquiescence, faceless suit and tie

Crawl back in your holes, when the work day’s through

One cog in the machine, the machine runs you

The soul it burns for fuel

Mass exploitation and riches for the few

Christ of modern culture, work away the sin

Sleep away the anger, work day soon begins