The Machinist

Demand, supply, humanity denied Precious time sacrificed to pad the bottom line Building castles in the sand that no one cares to see Meaning measured only in profitability My eyes don’t see so clearly inside this sterile room Shaping raw material for masses to consume Manifest the design, to the letter, to the line Surrender all control and follow as I’m told Is this all there is? Is this all I’m to be? A resource to consume to fill a broken dream Extract, exploit, dispose, forget No future to imagine, a lifetime to regret In the crevices Of my diseased mind I feel it rising up into light Panic, need, to, leave Find me a place to hide Just for a little while And I can breathe in sanctuary I need to look back and only see Things that I did that I wanted to Things I made and breathed life into Running forwards and falling back Running forwards and falling back All progress is pre-determined So what are the chances All progress is pre-determined So what are the chances