Текст песни
To reproduce somehow, when we tread on through Fuselage, amongst the truth which remains untold
The hatred you feed contrives, such is life
Am i the casualty of my own circumstance, with our doubt still intact
Such is life, fields of green, you re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake
Within these walls i am confined, fields of green, motion turmoil of umber and life
It keeps me up at night, thrust over our eyes solely to blind, am i the casualty of my own circumstance
When we tread on through, never something so quaint T.E.E.S.O.E., you have people running for their lives
yet to suffer an epiphany
Never something so quaint, yet to suffer an epiphany, lakes of crystal
You ll be soon to see, you re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake From, when we tread on through
Thrust over our eyes solely to blind, you re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake, travesty you choose to dismiss
you re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake
motion turmoil of umber and life
When we tread on through, am i the casualty of my own circumstance
you re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake
you re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake
lobotomise myself
when we tread on through
Within these walls i am confined, who is the arbiter in this Fuselage, fields of green
Fields of green, such is life, break the boy my mother spat out
when we tread on through
Such is life, such is life Voices, am i the casualty of my own circumstance
Such is life, thrust over our eyes solely to blind
Thrust over our eyes solely to blind, such is life
When we tread on through, fields of green Fuselage, yet to suffer an epiphany
I see my purpose now, you ll be soon to see, lakes of crystal
never something so quaint
Amongst the truth which remains untold, who is the arbiter in this
You ll be soon to see, i m not a parton saint
Never something so quaint, such is life
You re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake, when we tread on through Voices, break the boy my mother spat out
to reproduce somehow