Gustaf Hielm - The Exquisite Machinery of Torture lyrics

A sustained, static gaze Oblivious to surroundings Empty, strained, unmoving eyes Diverted, paralyzed A burning ma** of emotions Enraged by years of silencing An accumulation of feelings suppressed Returning to devour Bright rays of chaos Generated by subconsciousness Retribution by own thoughts Twisting the mind into fits Fueled with pains unveiled Burning with contamination Set afire by disowned self-lies They penetrate the eyes I Am i the next? Self-inflicted overload Thoughts returning to think me away I Will i be reprieved? Or am i just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery of torture The turmoil arises from the innermost core of denial Shining streams of putrefaction Refulgent with disease In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation A terminal journey to relieve cognition of ability Mind set alight by rejected senses and emotions Tearing flames, born within Creations of self-deception Strained, not to lose the grip Humans locked in the new disease A light by eyes unseen has come to burn us clean I Am i the next? Self-inflicted overload Thoughts returning to think me away I Will i be reprieved? Or am i just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery I sense the bodily facilities discorporated by the light All my pleas denied by my psychogenical enemy The inner other me I'm dead My sh** slowly dissovates Shadows no longer cast from this lifeless form that i've become Corporeality fails the grip Substance now decreasing Amorphous, without shape I'm vanishing, dematerialized My own corrosive thoughts Probes armed with acid tools Disintegrated I'm bleached out of reality Scattered bits internally My last transparent remains Floating inanimate objects Spinning into my soul Defeated by my contents Tables turned I'm a thought repressed I'm swallowed into myself Destination Nothingness I Am i the next? Self-inflicted overload Thoughts returning to think me away I Will i be reprieved? Or am i just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery I I've been the next My self-inflicted overload My neglected thoughts have thought me undone I I was never reprieved Now i know the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery of torture