A short slumber ends in the trenches By the blaring mortar shells The skies are red Seems they've been for days And my brothers murdered, dead Slaughter weaved into my brain Programmed by the leaders Mindless killing machine (killing machine) I am not a machine Propaganda makes us believe I am not a machine Propaganda makes us believe But how can we believe? When you feed me seeds of hate False accusations of a plague-ridden people They are not the enemy Just the target of your madness (we know this) Yet war machines rumble... ...And triggers pull, We burn the Earth and think not of the eternal I am not a machine Propaganda makes us believe I am not a machine Propaganda makes us believe What will it take to make us see, that we ignite the ground that bears our seeds? Turn blind eyes towards the sky and industrialize the apocalypse.