So push it back, against the tides of time Weep no more, Metropolis, let us rise from the ruin My brothers as we stand in line for the summoning We hold each other under the burning Western skies To you a grand design of apocalypse and fear In me war machines becomes forever the future Within glimpses brighter than a thousand suns Reigns the doctrines of fear supreme Harvest of the machine So when it comes back, against all odds You must grieve no more in your suffering We scream for liberation as we set our lives free We fall from Babel underneath the burning Western skies To you a grand design of apocalypse and fear In me war machines becomes forever the future Within glimpses brighter than a thousand suns Reigns the doctrines of fear supreme Harvest of the machine
machine, doctrine, supreme, apocalypse, harvest