Meshuggah - The Exquisite Machinery Of Torture

A sustained static gaze Oblivious to surroundings Empty, strained, unmoving eyes Introverted, paralyzed A burning mass of emotions denied Enraged by years of silencing An accumulation of feelings suppressed Returning to devour Bright rays of chaos Generated by subconsciousness A 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 Reflugent with disease In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation A terminal journey to relieve cognition of ability Minds lit like candles 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 of torture I sense the facilities of the bodily Discorporated by the light All my pleas denied By my psychological enemy The inner light unseen I, I'm deceived by my Receiving eyes susceptible To the endless killing sights 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 objects inanimate Spinning into my soul Defeated by my contents Tables turned I'm a thought repressed I'm swallowed into myself Destination, nothingless 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 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 me exquisite Internal machinery of torture