Pressure of my vengeange
A star lit by my wrath
Our race - superior
Lift up thine spirit
to higher depths
The weight of your sins
Keep you down
Pressed to the ground
Beaten onto the dust
The weight of your hate
Dims the vision
Sweet tears of joy
bleed from your veins
Downwards
pleasant thoughts
can be decieving
Leading you towards
this temple of flesh and
light
Stand alone on the edge
Of this void and emptiness
The cities, the lights,
these lifes
The ghosts in the machine
This Pressure binds all of
life
into a hollow shell,
imitating lesser gods
Unleashing a revolution
Offering another solution
Man made god
to sweep away the errors
Pressure
Pressure
Revolution
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