Pressure of my vengeange
A star lit by my wrath
Our race - superior
Lift up thine spirit
to higher depths The weight of your sins
Keep you down
Pressed to the ground
Beaten onto the dust The weight of your hate
Dims the vision
Sweet tears of joy
bleed from your veins Downwards pleasant thoughts
can be decieving
Leading you towards
this temple of flesh and
light Stand alone on the edge
Of this void and emptiness The cities, the lights,
these lifes
The ghosts in the machine This Pressure binds all of
life
into a hollow shell,
imitating lesser gods Unleashing a revolution
Offering another solution
Man made god
to sweep away the errors Pressure Pressure Revolution