Schizoid - The Product Lyrics

Cloth, the symbols, my oppression
Army, high rises, silent repression
Weight of your god is on my shoulders
Weight of the dollar is making me older
Filling my veins with guilt and suspicion
Blood runs cold with conceit and derision
It's constant hypocritical bombardment
Pay your tributes, show your commitment

There can be no viable end
When you find you're unwilling to bend
There are no words to heal the scars
Your end beheaded or pinned to a cross
Exposed, demeaned before your peers
Pray that I can pay off my arrears
The Product, the wealth, patriarchs of gold
House wins, your life you fold

Devil that guides my thoughts
A product the cloth has wrought
Profits in gold for prophets of pain
None-the-less saints they remain
Feel the hand...Feel the weight
The weight of the world on your back!
Bend the legs...Bend the head
While the back of your neck goes crack!

Pluralism will not be tolerated
Monotheistic Regime created
God forbid you hadn't with to pay
Beware an early grave you lay
Leave behind this submergence
Search your own resurgence
Do not wait for revelations
Strengthen your own foundations

Devil that guides my thoughts
A product the cloth has wrought
Profits in gold for prophets of pain
None-the-less saints they remain
Feel the hand...Feel the weight
The weight of the world on your back!
Bend the legs...Bend the head
While the back of your neck goes crack!

Taught to accept the truth
Confess in a wooden booth
Look for corporate heaven
Political submission

Worn-out tired speeches
Theft and internet breaches
Reveal the truth behind
A society resigned

Taught to accept the truth
Confess in a wooden booth
Look for corporate heaven
Political submission

Worn-out tired speeches
Theft and internet breaches
Reveal the truth behind
A society resigned

Exposed self-indulgence and extortions
Massive bankrolls and secular perversions
Corporate fraud and Party decay
Causing the sheep to stray
Their shamelessness, no regret
Fallen idols, ill-beset
The product, the end, chaotic society
Depraved and deprived, a collapsed deity

Devil that guides my thoughts
A product the clothe has wrought
Profits in gold for prophets of pain
None-the-less saints they remain
Feel the hand...Feel the weight
The weight of the world on your back!
Bend the legs...Bend the head
While the back of your neck goes crack!

Devil that guides my thoughts
A product the clothe has wrought
Profits in gold for prophets of pain
None-the-less saints they remain
Feel the hand...Feel the weight
The weight of the world on your back!
Bend the legs...Bend the head
While the back of your neck goes crack!