The Machinist

We're approaching the gloating

Of another dealer's winning hand

The inspiring delusions

Living up to the dreams of modern man

And I swear we put our lives into everything, giving all we have

But we're lacking the reaping,

slaughtering the weakest of society's hard working calves

Trying to bring us down again

But we're still having the times of our lives

What we've lost we'll gain back again

The machine is tearing out our insides

We're picking up all the pieces, all life's thesis, that you've cast aside

Insuring our victory from mighty death's harvesting clock of time

You're breathing down the neck of all our selfish insecurities

Birthing the fate of the hate that's been breeding all our perfect impurities

We're climbing, still climbing this mountain that you've set before us

We'll do whatever it takes not to make the mistakes,

but still this pressure's killing us

We're picking up all the pieces, all life's thesis, that you've cast aside

Insuring our victory from mighty death's harvesting clock of time

Only time will tell if this hard life meant anything

We'll do whatever it takes not to make the mistakes,

but still this pressure's killing us

If all we have still isn't good enough, then what's left to give?

Breaking apart the nothing that's become our only incentive

So mark our words and build our graves

You're the excuse for all of our mistakes

The very reason that we turned out this way

All the failure and all the heartache

Asking, pulling, taking all that's left in our lives

The machine is tearing out our insides

So mark our words, and build our graves

You're the excuse for all of our mistakes

The very reason that we turned out this way

All the failure and all the heartache

So mark our words, and build our graves

You're the excuse for all of our mistakes