[ Featuring Still Remains ]
An artist dies in the arms of a machine
And all their eyes watch like it's a performance art piece
His brush strokes in panic commit to easel
The creative flaw coded only in man
To make immortal
Through fear, the fleeting
Moments stolen in age
No machine has been unmade
By the haunt of nostalgia's decay (perfect organism)
No oil-laden vein has severed nor oxidized
At the numbing arrangement of words for want of another's touch
An unintelligible lyric from the mouth between the gears
And the final applause vindicate flesh rendered harmless again
An artist dies in the arms of a machine
An artist dies in the arms of a machine
An artist dies in the arms of a machine
And all their eyes watch like it's a performance art piece
The artist drowns in debt beneath the crushing gears
The artist drowns in debt beneath the crushing gears
The artist drowns in debt
The machine, the machine feels nothing (applause at the death of an artist)
Nothing (applause at the death of an artist)
Nothing, the machine feels nothing
Nothing, the machine feels nothing
(A survivor, unclouded by conscience)
(Remorse, or delusions of morality)
