eight wheels lusting for the lives of infantry his turrets turning from accountability we sing our final song and soon this verse is over he makes advances till his wheels cease to roll his god is smiling on his cold mechanic soul his plot is perfect if it sees no contradiction there s no sign that he shows a sign of slowing you ve stained your skin and i won t stick around around long enough to count the hearts that hit the ground so long ago was i one of them your urgency hastened by his ingenuity matter of moments till your body is debris his plot is perfect if it sees no contradiction you ve stained your skin and i won t stick around around long enough to count the hearts that hit the ground so long ago was i one of them and still he moves on arm and iron conquer heart and soul and what of those in silent disconnect sundry souls akin in consequence begging for bliss beyond the pain relief is just a turret s turn away you ve stained your skin and i won t stick around around long enough to count the hearts that hit the ground so long ago was i one of them 