Unholy Rapture - Lyrics

Six thousand years, deep in the past.
Amidst the chaos, fate's die was cast.
Enforcement of order, the law became Lord.
And spread 'cross the earth on the edge of a sword.
Thousands enslaved, and thousands more killed.
The gods were made drunk on the blood which was spilled.
Civilization, the maddening dream.
We gave up our freedom and became a machine.

Centuries old, now a sight to behold, truly our greatest creation.
But out of control, and it swallows us whole, a ravenous abomination.
A Death Machine...

You are content, your soul has been saved.
You live like a saint, among the depraved.
There is no heaven, and there is no god,
But if it brings you comfort you'll believe in the fraud.
Obedient worker, put in your time.
Continuous victim of corporate crime.
And when they demand to have total control.
Will you go hungry, or sell out your soul?

So you swear to be pure, and bravely assure,
that your virtue will never be tried.
But you must lie, steal, and cheat, in a world made of meat,
and repent at the end of your life.
Hear the angels sing...To the one true god...

Burning with anger, or deeply depressed.
Your life lies in ruin, your mind cannot rest.
Instead of follow the leader, you followed your heart.
With surgical swiftness they tore you apart.
It doesn't matter who is right and who's wrong.
If they have the power, you won't last long.
Your submission is final, and you deal with the pain.
Swallowing anger and happiness feigned.

With a tear in your eye, you make one last try,
your children will champion your cause.
And you'll sadly lament, what you cannot prevent,
as they're crushed by mechanical jaws.
By the Death Machine, the Death Machine, devouring all of your dreams.
It's a Death Machine, a Death Machine, efficient, repugnant, obscene.

Riding the wave, you have gone far.
A cavernous house and a fast shiny car.
Choosing your battles, and winning the wars.
The position you longed for is finally yours.
Your enemies many, your allies are few.
The masses below are as hungry as you.
A paranoid tyrant, alone at the top.
Desperately hoping that the bottom won't drop.

Power and games, lovers and shame,
and numerous pleasures to keep yourself sane.
We are all slaves, from the cradle to the grave,
the difference: the length of the chain.
Chained to the Death Machine, the Death Machine, learning how slavery feels.
It's a Death Machine, a Death Machine, and you are just one of the wheels.

Jockey for position and you're happy for a while.
Ease the pain with one quick gain and wear a little smile.
They've got to keep you hungry if they want to win the race.
They'll amplify your failures, and shove them in your face.
Deep in debt they bury you and work you to the bone.
Trade your life for a piece of dirt that you can call your own.
Say it doesn't matter, give in to the machine.
There's much to keep you satisfied upon the TV screen.

Efficiency the endless chase and singular of mind.
Those who stop to catch their breath are quickly left behind.
To the victors go the spoils piled to the sky.
But there's no space for second place, assimilate or die.
Push it to the maximum in all your work and play.
No mercy and no sympathy for those who block your way.
Burning like a meteor and hell bent for the ground.
All you hear are grinding gears, spinning round and round...

And as your body starts to choke and spit up blood.
And you are waiting for the release of death.
The madness falls away layer by layer.
One taste of freedom before the end.

© Brian Voth, 1997.