Letra

This is my home, this is my own We don't like no strangers Raise the kids good, beat the kids good And tie them up Spread it wide, my wife, my life Push the camera deeper I can use, I abuse, my muse I made them all This machine Is there to please Strip the soul Fill the hole A fire to feed A belt to bleed Strip the soul Kill them all They are not gone, they are not gone They are only sleeping In graves, in ways, in clay Underneath the floor Building walls, overalls, getting bored I got faulty wiring Brick it up now, brick it up now But keep the bones This machine Is there to please Strip the soul Fill the hole A fire to feed (do you want a) A belt to bleed (western home) Strip the soul (in the rubble?) Kill them all Do you want a western home in the rubble? This machine Is there to please Strip the soul Fill the hole This machine Is there to please Strip the soul Fill the hole (This machine) (Is there to please) (Strip the soul) (Fill the hole) This machine Is there to please Strip the soul Fill the hole Strip the soul Fill the hole Strip the soul Kill them all
Writer(s): Steven John Wilson, Richard Barbieri, Gavin Richard Harrison, Colin Edwin Balch Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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