Blinded, gagged and bound by confirmation
On this premise we iterate a lie
Why? Will stay unasked
They know, we know
It doesn't matter
Barren hollow words
No information
We're led to believe
In self-applied deceit
This trope of ignorance, disinformation
Made to confuse
To light the shortened fuse
Wading through the rubble of ideologies
Cherry picking madness
To the gospel of suckers
Sustenance for the greatest of ideas
Life is a machine, it will cater to me
Bow, serve, comply
Bared teeth, the lesson is complete
The stench of strange raw meat
Draw acolytes to feast
Rotting thoughts the treat
So who came up with your ideas?
Before, you spat them out like they were yours
Play the pawn
Knowing where hope lies
Where it goes to die
Meshuggah - Light the Shortening Fuse Lyrics
Meshuggah - Light the Shortening Fuse Lyrics
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Blinded, gagged and bound by confirmation
On this premise we iterate a lie
Why? Will stay unasked
They know, we know
It doesn't matter
Barren hollow words
No information
We're led to believe
In self-applied deceit
This trope of ignorance, disinformation
Made to confuse
To light the shortened fuse
Wading through the rubble of ideologies
Cherry picking madness
To the gospel of suckers
Sustenance for the greatest of ideas
Life is a machine, it will cater to me
Bow, serve, comply
Bared teeth, the lesson is complete
The stench of strange raw meat
Draw acolytes to feast
Rotting thoughts the treat
So who came up with your ideas?
Before, you spat them out like they were yours
Play the pawn
Knowing where hope lies
Where it goes to die
On this premise we iterate a lie
Why? Will stay unasked
They know, we know
It doesn't matter
Barren hollow words
No information
We're led to believe
In self-applied deceit
This trope of ignorance, disinformation
Made to confuse
To light the shortened fuse
Wading through the rubble of ideologies
Cherry picking madness
To the gospel of suckers
Sustenance for the greatest of ideas
Life is a machine, it will cater to me
Bow, serve, comply
Bared teeth, the lesson is complete
The stench of strange raw meat
Draw acolytes to feast
Rotting thoughts the treat
So who came up with your ideas?
Before, you spat them out like they were yours
Play the pawn
Knowing where hope lies
Where it goes to die
Writer: Tomas Nils Haake, Marten Hans Hagstrom, Jens Roland Kidman, Dick August Lovgren, Frederik Carl Thorendal
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.