The Machinist (MyChildren MyBride)

We're approaching the gloating Of another dealer's winning hand The inspiring delusions Living up to the dreams of modern man And I swear we put our lives into everything, giving all we have But we're lacking the reaping, slaughtering the weakest of society's hard working calves Trying to bring us down again But we're still having the times of our lives What we've lost we'll gain back again The machine is tearing out our insides We're picking up all the pieces, all life's thesis, that you've cast aside Insuring our victory from mighty death's harvesting clock of time You're breathing down the neck of all our selfish insecurities Birthing the fate of the hate that's been breeding all our perfect impurities We're climbing, still climbing this mountain that you've set before us We'll do whatever it takes not to make the mistakes, but still this pressure's killing us We're picking up all the pieces, all life's thesis, that you've cast aside Insuring our victory from mighty death's harvesting clock of time Only time will tell if this hard life meant anything We'll do whatever it takes not to make the mistakes, but still this pressure's killing us If all we have still isn't good enough, then what's left to give? Breaking apart the nothing that's become our only incentive So mark our words and build our graves You're the excuse for all of our mistakes The very reason that we turned out this way All the failure and all the heartache Asking, pulling, taking all that's left in our lives The machine is tearing out our insides So mark our words, and build our graves You're the excuse for all of our mistakes The very reason that we turned out this way All the failure and all the heartache So mark our words, and build our graves You're the excuse for all of our mistakes