Écorché - The Apostate | Текст песни

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• Écorché
• The Apostate

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Limbs torn off, A Hacking cough, The owner scoffs, It’s progress
Belching smoke, A child chokes, The owner croaks, It’s progress
Petrol burns, The gears turn, The workers learn, It’s progress

God doesn’t live here anymore
God isn’t wanted anymore
In Trust we trust as deity
In Trust we trust blindly

Skies are black
Lungs are black
No turning back
Feed the machine
Meat on tines
Shattered spines
Necrotic minds
The Apostate

Oil Lamp, Conditions damp, Quarters cramped, It’s progress
Miasma, Breath as you, Breed asthma, It’s progress
A fetid sick, Mucus drips, To lungs that stick, It’s progress

God doesn’t live here anymore
God isn’t wanted anymore
In Trust we trust as deity
In Trust we trust blindly

Skies are black
Lungs are black
No turning back
Feed the machine
Meat on tines
Shattered spines
Necrotic minds
The Apostate