Creating the mechanical race
And waiting for a day of the doom,
You live paralysed in fear that
Work of tight hands will swallow you

Useless prayers
And minds spoiled by liars
Their all eyes turned to you
In need of an injection
Of new technologiies
And your insane continues
The New God arises
But you're trying to survive

Imagination of your near end lives inside you
Your thoughts're becoming primitive
Your consciousness is lost and dying
In the sea of fears and weakness of your soul
There is no compassion when you're looking in the eyes

Of New God
Hand of your doom

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