You've been gone, too long, a quick kill for the new two-dollar bill.
a bad boy, a new toy, a big gun ‘till i buy me a bigger one.
are you acceptable… cultured, respectable?
this seed, will breed, and leave you stinking like a dead man.
Some say, we may, be here when the king comes back again.
i breathe, concrete, she sticks in my skin like a honeybee.
this faith infallible, our vanity palpable…
you know, it grows, it's sleeping underneath your bed, man.
That's it, i quit, no rest in the bed of a hypocrite.
when i, subside, find me in the hands of “the nazarene”.
i keep it all close to me, misery loves company, so...
i keep it all close to me… you won't find me stinking like a dead man.
Chorus:
I want to feed it a social disease.
wake up, wake up, to the new god machine.
i want to feed it a social disease.
wake up, wake up, you're the new god machine.
i want to feed it. i want to feed it.
wake up. wake up. you're the new god machine