You've Been Gone, Too Long, A Quick Kill For The New Two-dollar Bill.

A Bad Boy, A New Toy, A Big Gun 'till I Buy Me A Bigger One.

Are You Acceptable… Cultured, Respectable?

This Seed, Will Breed, And Leave You Stinking Like A Dead Man.



Some Say, We May, Be Here When The King Comes Back Again.

I Breathe, Concrete, She Sticks In My Skin Like A Honeybee.

This Faith Infallible, Our Vanity Palpable…

You Know, It Grows, It's Sleeping Underneath Your Bed, Man.



That's It, I Quit, No Rest In The Bed Of A Hypocrite.

When I, Subside, Find Me In The Hands Of “The Nazarene”.

I Keep It All Close To Me, Misery Loves Company, So...

I Keep It All Close To Me… You Won't Find Me Stinking Like A Dead Man.



CHORUS:



I Want To Feed It A Social Disease.

Wake Up, Wake Up, To The New God Machine.

I Want To Feed It A Social Disease.

Wake Up, Wake Up, You're The New God Machine.

I Want To Feed It. I Want To Feed It.

Wake Up. Wake Up. You're The New God Machine