25 decembrie 2011

New Machine

Nailed to the cross by just words,
Crucifixion complete.
Close enough to the fire...
To feel temptation's heat.
It's gone away to taste the ground,
Replaced by the incessant sound of fear.

There's a ring in my ears,
I'm bleeding from my heart.
Far away from love...
The execution starts.
Made us what we are today,
A lonely pile of disarray.

We are the children of a new regime
We are the children of a new machine.

Mass production, thought controlled.
No I never knew my heart.
No. Never knew the love...
That made them fall apart.
It's gone away to taste the ground,
Replaced by the incessant sound we hear.

We are the children
Ya, the children
What of the children?
We are the children of the new machine.
What of the children?
We are the children of the new machine.
The new machine.

5 comentarii:

  1. hehe, am uitat ca intrasem in niste discutii si m-am luat cu treaba.

    te recitesc cu placere, sper sa pastram legatura.

    mihai

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  2. Sunt a 7-a persoana inscrisă !
    Ce numar mistic...
    Păcat că nu prea ştiu englezeşte! Dar poate mă voi descurca :))

    RăspundețiȘtergere
  3. Pe blogul asta daca nu scapam de unele prejudecati, macar le rearanjam,astfel incat sa ne simtim mai bine. 7 e numarul cel mai norocos ! :)

    RăspundețiȘtergere
  4. Ca dovadă că 7 este un număr norocos, am descoperit cum este cu traducerea ce ai pus la dispozitie :))

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