| No god from the machine
|
| No saviors lay in wait
|
| We’ve left the wooded valley
|
| Headed toward the precipice
|
| This mountain is a monster
|
| Austerity bites, severe, serene
|
| Luddites try as they might
|
| Discontent in every face
|
| And dwell upon every tongue
|
| Our skin is cracked, our hands are heavy, our hearts are weary from the climb
|
| Our skin is cracked, our hands are heavy, our hearts are weary from the climb
|
| Austerity bites, severe, serene
|
| Luddites try as they might
|
| Discontent in every face
|
| And dwell upon every tongue
|
| Austerity bites, severe, serene
|
| Luddites try as they might
|
| Discontent in every face
|
| And dwell upon every tongue
|
| Tongue |