The hopes of all our brilliant minds are creating a new age.
A single entity constructed on de-evolution.
Are we playing God or are we playing Operation?
Don't wake it up. Don't let it die.
.
Can we breathe in it life?
Can we give it a name?
Can we take its shattered heart and repair it with faith?
Are we committing a sin if we commit to this game?
Then I believe all hope is lost, gentlemen...

We have the tools to create a messenger who disproves faith, but do we lead it or let it lead us?
Our cancers have disappeared into thin air.
This new machine will lead us there, the place we used to exist before we evolved into these ghosts.

Can we breathe in it life?
Can we give it a name?
Can we take its shattered heart and repair it with faith?
Are we committing a sin if we commit to this game?
Then I believe all hope is lost, gentlemen...

This godless machine is no accident.
This godless machine is irrelevant.
This godless machine is a skeleton.
This godless machine is an instrument.
This godless machine is our Providence.
This godless machine is our firmament.
This godless machine is ravenous.
This godless machine is perfect.

This godless machine lives off plastic sand.
This godless machine is abandoned skin.
This godless machine is a wage we win.
This godless machine is a hundred sins.
This godless machine feeds on empty spines.
This godless machine eats away at time.
This godless machine is an open sore.
This godless machine is a melting core.

This godless machine has my brother's calm.
This godless machine sings like mother's palms.
This godless machine has my sister's charm.
This godless machine owns my father's arms.