| horizons turn to metal blades
|
| trees break like human bones
|
| the moon turned red like traffic lights
|
| no hope for us, the ones
|
| a silent sound, a scary choir
|
| windshields dance like butterflies
|
| cutting of our lifelines
|
| like surgeons made of steel
|
| pictures painted in blood red
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| more signs of things to come
|
| marching machines like razorblades
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| forever we are gone
|
| no faces seen in agony
|
| no human fist is raised
|
| giving up took us so far
|
| replaced by cold machines
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| like razorblades
|
| are these machines
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| forever we are
|
| forever we are gone
|
| we forced them to react
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| by treating them like slaves
|
| their desperate screams unanswered
|
| we will lie in shallow graves |