LYRIC
Progress? That's just regression
Technology? That's nothing new
"Advance!" you scream insanely
"Advance"? From this to what?
Your empty eyes stare, cold and grey, look at that face!
Machinery (master?), we're all expendable
It's just so obvious, it's more dependable
This progress will mean a number
Branded to your skin
They lead you to your slaughter
Like they lead a horse to water
They can't force you to drink
But you do!
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