The Exquisite Machinery Of Torture Lyrics
| Song | The Exquisite Machinery Of Torture |
| Artist | Meshuggah |
| Album | Chaosphere |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Haake, Thordendal | |
| A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings. | |
| Empty, strained, unmoving eyes; Introverted, paralyzed | |
| A burning mass of emotions denied, enraged by years of silencing. | |
| An accumulation of feelings suppressed, returning to devour. | |
| Bright rays of chaos, generated by subconsciousness. | |
| A retribution by own thoughts; twisting the mind into fits | |
| Fuelled with pains unveiled. Burning with contamination. | |
| Set afire by disowned self-lies; they penetrate the eyes. | |
| I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload. | |
| Thoughts returning to think me away. | |
| I... Will I be reprieved, | |
| or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture | |
| The turmoil arises, from the innermost core of denial. | |
| Shining streams of putrefaction, reflugent with disease - | |
| In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation. | |
| A terminal journey to relieve cognition of Ability | |
| Minds lit like candles, by rejected senses and emotions. | |
| Tearing flames, born in mind; Creations of self deception. | |
| Strained, not to lose the grip - Humans locked in the new disease. | |
| A light by eyes unseen has come to burn us clean. | |
| (Chorus:) I... Am I the next?....... | |
| I sense; The facilities of the bodily; Discorporated by the light | |
| All my pleas; denied | |
| By my psychological enemy | |
| The inner light unseen | |
| I... I'm deceived by my | |
| Receiving eyes; - susceptible | |
| to the endless killing-sights | |
| Consciousness fails the grip. Substance now decreasing | |
| Amorphous. Without shape - I'm vanishing; dematerialized | |
| My own corrosive thoughts - Probes armed with acid tools | |
| Disintegrated, I'm bleached out of reality | |
| Scattered bits internally; My last transparent remains; | |
| Floating objects inanimate; Spinning into my soul | |
| Defeated by my contents. Tables turned, I'm a thought repressed | |
| I'm swallowed into myself. Destination; nothingness | |
| I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload | |
| Thoughts returning to think me away | |
| I... Will I be reprieved | |
| Or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture | |
| I... I've been the next. My self inflicted overload, | |
| My neglected thoughts have thought me undone. | |
| I... I was never reprieved | |
| Now I know the sentence of me exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture |
| zuo ci : Haake, Thordendal | |
| A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings. | |
| Empty, strained, unmoving eyes Introverted, paralyzed | |
| A burning mass of emotions denied, enraged by years of silencing. | |
| An accumulation of feelings suppressed, returning to devour. | |
| Bright rays of chaos, generated by subconsciousness. | |
| A retribution by own thoughts twisting the mind into fits | |
| Fuelled with pains unveiled. Burning with contamination. | |
| Set afire by disowned selflies they penetrate the eyes. | |
| I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload. | |
| Thoughts returning to think me away. | |
| I... Will I be reprieved, | |
| or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture | |
| The turmoil arises, from the innermost core of denial. | |
| Shining streams of putrefaction, reflugent with disease | |
| In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation. | |
| A terminal journey to relieve cognition of Ability | |
| Minds lit like candles, by rejected senses and emotions. | |
| Tearing flames, born in mind Creations of self deception. | |
| Strained, not to lose the grip Humans locked in the new disease. | |
| A light by eyes unseen has come to burn us clean. | |
| Chorus: I... Am I the next?....... | |
| I sense The facilities of the bodily Discorporated by the light | |
| All my pleas denied | |
| By my psychological enemy | |
| The inner light unseen | |
| I... I' m deceived by my | |
| Receiving eyes susceptible | |
| to the endless killingsights | |
| Consciousness fails the grip. Substance now decreasing | |
| Amorphous. Without shape I' m vanishing dematerialized | |
| My own corrosive thoughts Probes armed with acid tools | |
| Disintegrated, I' m bleached out of reality | |
| Scattered bits internally My last transparent remains | |
| Floating objects inanimate Spinning into my soul | |
| Defeated by my contents. Tables turned, I' m a thought repressed | |
| I' m swallowed into myself. Destination nothingness | |
| I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload | |
| Thoughts returning to think me away | |
| I... Will I be reprieved | |
| Or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture | |
| I... I' ve been the next. My self inflicted overload, | |
| My neglected thoughts have thought me undone. | |
| I... I was never reprieved | |
| Now I know the sentence of me exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture |
| zuò cí : Haake, Thordendal | |
| A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings. | |
| Empty, strained, unmoving eyes Introverted, paralyzed | |
| A burning mass of emotions denied, enraged by years of silencing. | |
| An accumulation of feelings suppressed, returning to devour. | |
| Bright rays of chaos, generated by subconsciousness. | |
| A retribution by own thoughts twisting the mind into fits | |
| Fuelled with pains unveiled. Burning with contamination. | |
| Set afire by disowned selflies they penetrate the eyes. | |
| I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload. | |
| Thoughts returning to think me away. | |
| I... Will I be reprieved, | |
| or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture | |
| The turmoil arises, from the innermost core of denial. | |
| Shining streams of putrefaction, reflugent with disease | |
| In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation. | |
| A terminal journey to relieve cognition of Ability | |
| Minds lit like candles, by rejected senses and emotions. | |
| Tearing flames, born in mind Creations of self deception. | |
| Strained, not to lose the grip Humans locked in the new disease. | |
| A light by eyes unseen has come to burn us clean. | |
| Chorus: I... Am I the next?....... | |
| I sense The facilities of the bodily Discorporated by the light | |
| All my pleas denied | |
| By my psychological enemy | |
| The inner light unseen | |
| I... I' m deceived by my | |
| Receiving eyes susceptible | |
| to the endless killingsights | |
| Consciousness fails the grip. Substance now decreasing | |
| Amorphous. Without shape I' m vanishing dematerialized | |
| My own corrosive thoughts Probes armed with acid tools | |
| Disintegrated, I' m bleached out of reality | |
| Scattered bits internally My last transparent remains | |
| Floating objects inanimate Spinning into my soul | |
| Defeated by my contents. Tables turned, I' m a thought repressed | |
| I' m swallowed into myself. Destination nothingness | |
| I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload | |
| Thoughts returning to think me away | |
| I... Will I be reprieved | |
| Or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture | |
| I... I' ve been the next. My self inflicted overload, | |
| My neglected thoughts have thought me undone. | |
| I... I was never reprieved | |
| Now I know the sentence of me exquisite, | |
| internal machinery of torture |
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