Meshuggah - The Exquisite Machinery Of Torture lyrics

[Music:Fredrik Thordendal, Tomas Haake; Lyric:Tomas Haake] A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings. Empty, strained, unmoving eyes; Inverted, paralyzed A burning ma** of emotions denied, 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 Fuelled 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, reflugent with disease - In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation. A terminal journey to relieve cognition of ability Mind satalite, by rejected senses and emotions. Tearing flames, born in mind; 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 [solo] I sense; The violent facilities Discorporated by the light All my pleas; denied By my psycho-dentical enemy The inner light of me I'm dead my sh** slowly dissovates Shadows no longer gifts from this lifeless form that i've become Consciousness 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