Pressure of my vengeange   A star lit by my wrath   Our race - superior   Lift up thine spirit   to higher depths      The weight of your sins   Keep you down   Pressed to the ground   Beaten onto the dust      The weight of your hate   Dims the vision   Sweet tears of joy   bleed from your veins      Downwards      pleasant thoughts   can be decieving   Leading you towards   this temple of flesh and   light      Stand alone on the edge   Of this void and emptiness      The cities, the lights,   these lifes   The ghosts in the machine      This Pressure binds all of   life   into a hollow shell,   imitating lesser gods      Unleashing a revolution   Offering another solution   Man made god   to sweep away the errors      Pressure      Pressure      Revolution