Crisis - Methodology lyrics

has the light become part of the machinery? has the hand become part of the disease? has the body become the unwilling vessel? hahahaha how simple to peel away the skin and cut away the flesh. to discard and dispose or preserve of brain, vertricle, heart, lungs... to be left with bones... stitching the pieces of appendage of directed sight and speech. dictating placement of footsteps and embrace. SERVE MY DESTINY SERVE MY PROPHECY SERVE MY FUTURE SERVE MY FUTURE the master man maker; twitching the thread of a thigh bone, twisting the stitch of a wrist moving toward its destiny... SERVE MY DESTINY / PROPHECY / FUTURE beading the twinkle of an eye to shine on only one truth. casting a lock of hair meant to strangle the last bit of hope. YOU ARE THE MASTER YOU ARE THE DOLL MAKER YOU ARE THE SLAVE CREATOR string them up to teach them your language YOU ARE THE MASTER YOU ARE THE SLAVE CREATOR hahaha an individual with choices to make you are not. you merely play into my hands, the web I weave. I twist you in like a fly. and you no longer think. and you no longer feel. and this is the dance you do. and this is the dance you do. building the confines of trust and obedience, housing the weakness of winged spirits and capture the mystery of otherness. YOU ARE THE MAN MAKER YOU ARE THE WILL BREAKER YOU ARE THE LIFE TAKER cage them up to keep them from falling out of line puppet strings begin to twist. a master hand... do you know who I am? SERVE MY DESTINY. SERVE MY PROPHECY. SERVE MY FUTURE. this garden breeds the yellow pestilence of wicked fingers at work among the living. branches are broken for posture and structure of spineless cloth sacks of arms and legs and face and neck of the master's creation.