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[Music:Fredrik Thordendal, Tomas Haake; Lyric:Tomas Haake] A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings. Empty, strained, unmoving eyes; Inverted, paralyzed A burning mass of emotions denied, enraged by years of silencing. An accumulation of feelings suppressed, returning to devour. Bright rays of chaos, generated by subconsciousness. retribution by own thoughts; twisting the mind into fits Fuelled with pains unveiled. Burning with contamination. Set afire by disowned self-lies; they penetrate the eyes. I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload. Thoughts returning to think me away. I... Will I be reprieved? or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery of torture The turmoil arises, from the innermost core of denial. Shining streams of putrefaction, reflugent with disease - In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation. A terminal journey to relieve cognition of ability Mind satalite, by rejected senses and emotions. Tearing flames, born in mind; Creations of self deception. Strained, not to lose the grip - Humans locked in the new disease. SongtexteA light by eyes unseen has come to burn us clean. I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload. Thoughts returning to think me away. I... Will I be reprieved, or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery [solo] I sense; The violent facilities Discorporated by the light All my pleas; denied By my psycho-dentical enemy The inner light of me I'm dead my shit slowly dissovates Shadows no longer gifts from this lifeless form that i've become Consciousness fails the grip. Substance now decreasing Amorphous. Without shape - I'm vanishing; dematerialized My own corrosive thoughts - Probes armed with acid tools Disintegrated, I'm bleached out of reality Scattered bits internally; My last transparent remains; Floating inanimate objects; Spinning into my soul Defeated by my contents. Tables turned, I'm a thought repressed I'm swallowed into myself. Destination; nothingness I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload Thoughts returning to think me away I... Will I be reprieved Or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery I... I've been the next. My self inflicted overload, My neglected thoughts have thought me undone. I... I was never reprieved Now I know the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery of torture Aus Songtexte Mania