Machines Of Loving Grace - Terminal City

Divine the killing
sublime terrorist
gentle gnasher
we are alone
we are wired together
we are alone
we are wired together
uptight in Terminal City
fucked up in Terminal City
When I lower my stare
pure creature of electric air becoming totally impaired
it's like sex without motion
fellow sleepers of the common dream
the one injected by the ancient screen
fucked up in Terminal City
uptight in Terminal City
recrush
toothbrush
she wore a feline flower face
he wanted to consume her
knew it was impossible
paper girls always drive into this place
uptight in terminal city
wired terminal
when I turn on
when I tune in
will I dropout
will I drop out

You awaken from the very long dream.
Your eyes are focused on the fan on the ceiling.
You realize you're a part of the machine.
Just a part of the machine.

Uptight in Terminal City
Fucked up in Terminal City
{something} in Terminal City
Fucked up terminal