| Run down a street where the glass shows that summer has gone
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| Age in the doorways, resenting the pace of the dawn
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| All of them standing in line
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| All of them waiting for time
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| From time, the great healer
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| The machine messiah is born
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| Cables that carry the life to the cities we build
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| Threads that link diamonds of light to the satanic mills
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| Ah, to see in every way
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| That, we feel it every day, and know that
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| Maybe we’ll change
|
| Offered the chance
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| To finally unlearn our lessons and alter our stance
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| PART 2
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| Friends make their way into systems of chance
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| (Friends make their way of escape into systems of chance)
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| Escape to freedom, I need to be there
|
| Waiting and watching, the tables are turning
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| I’m waiting and watching
|
| I need to be there
|
| I care to see them walk away
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| And, to be there when they say
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| They will return
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| Machine, machine messiah
|
| The mindless search for a higher controller
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| Take me to the fire and hold me
|
| Show me the strength of your singular eye
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| PART 3
|
| History dictating symptoms of ruling romance
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| Claws at the shores of the water upon which we dance
|
| All of us standing in line
|
| All of us waiting for time
|
| To feel it all the way
|
| And to be there when they say they know that
|
| Maybe we’ll change
|
| Offered the chance
|
| To finally unlearn our lessons and alter our stance
|
| Machine, machine messiah
|
| Take me into the fire
|
| Hold me, machine messiah
|
| And show me
|
| The strength of your singular eye |