كلمات The Grey Machines

The Grey Machines Revolve in rhythm Like a soundtrack for A new religion But in sixteen hours There's fifteen minutes Where you get to rest And plan for death This blue jumpsuit Is red from torture When I sold my vote To buy some water But the toxins taste As sweet as murder And the choice is stark Bastille or spark Heard there's a world where Free will is the law Why do I need wings to fly When falling feels so sound Why do I need open skies When I can kiss the ground Here sleep's a dream As rare as laughter Any hint of hope Is manufactured And nostalgia's now The one addiction That they care to cure With brutal force I've felt the fist A glove of velvet But they add barbed wire For extra torment It's the only time There's satisfaction In their lifeless eyes And loveless lives Why do I need wings to fly When falling feels so sound Why do I need open skies When I can kiss the ground Oh, The Grey Machines Revolve in rhythm Oh, The Grey Machines A new religion Heard there's a world where Free will is the law Why do I need wings to fly When falling feels so sound Why do I need open skies When I can kiss the ground Oh, The Grey Machines Revolve in rhythm Oh, The Grey Machines A new religion Revolve in rhythm A new religion Revolve in rhythm A new religion