The malm of man.
Ground down to pulp and puss.
Oiling the cogs.
Fueling the furnace.

Hazy horizon.
A dense surrender.
Autonomous.
Alive; it's machine.

Flesh for fruit.
Oh, Metropolis, what of sovereignty?

All was fair, for all was free.
Oh, Metropolis, what of democracy?

We will rot in it's city of industry.

In search of her rains.
Crawling through soot and sorrow.
An industrial mire of muck.
In search of her soul.
Following the trees, built like the steel of spatha.
Guiding us beyond.
Arriving in stasis.
Splintered were the bones that held the keep.
Alas, her heart; withering.
If it still beats, will we find our purpose?
The cursed man.
Repetition to spawn this abstract think.
Linear is the key.
Simple was the fix.

The cursed man.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.