I was the whole world helping my brother die
I was the first war pulling your voice from the sky
I became the bad dream of a wretched society
You're tempted by the power they gave you
You sell yourself to lay your brother down
What's changed in you now?
This sick sense of clarity...
It's haunting your dreams
It's haunting everything you've made
It's haunting everything
Beyond this unclear holiness
And the illusion of light
I can see your face
I can hear your name
Let your grace fall like rain
I chose scarlet lines over a white paper grain
So the lines would stand out
Now raise my brother's body up
Now there is blood on both of us
You're sleeping in the house of your enemies
The traitors and their sick sense of clarity
They're desperate for the company
Trapped inside this single state of mind;
He stares at the brink of his collapse
My brother's past on these unholy hands
They made me the war machine
I am the war machine