Slice

We offer you a dream
That you'll call construction
A simple query that will never end
We give you an image
To cherish with devotion
We put this image in your trembling hands
We offer you the world
If you bow to submission
A dried up Paradise, a fireless Eden

We Think we grow up
That it's automatic
But we're made of shocks
And we're made of past
We hear it beating
our heart of plastic
We hear this clock
Pretending well never die

The deadest amongst those
Who're roting in here
Preside over the grave
Electing their Gods
Now you worship on your knees
The words of the Law :
"Loyal vassals
Idolize me
I am the Mild
The fear
The Flail
Loyal vassals
Idolize me
I am the Mild
The Fear
The Flail"

We Think we grow up
That it's automatic
But we're made of shocks
And we're made of past
We hear it beating
our heart of plastic
We hear this clock
Pretending well never die

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