Meshuggah
The Exquisite Machinery of Torture
A sustained, static gaze
Oblivious to surroundings
Empty, strained, unmoving eyes
Diverted, paralyzed
A burning mass of emotions
Enraged by years of silencing
An accumulation of feelings suppressed
Returning to devour
Bright rays of chaos
Generated by subconsciousness
Retribution by own thoughts
Twisting the mind into fits
Fueled 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
Refulgent with disease
In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation
A terminal journey to relieve cognition of ability
Mind set alight by rejected senses and emotions
Tearing flames, born within
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
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

I sense the bodily facilities discorporated by the light
All my pleas denied by my psychogenical enemy
The inner other me
I'm dead
My shit slowly dissovates
Shadows no longer cast from this lifeless form that i've become

Corporeality 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 inanimate objects
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
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 my exquisite, internal machinery of torture