

Well-Oiled MachinesWell-Oiled MachinesWell-Oiled Machines
We live our lives in naivety Of the workings behind society Were made to work night and day The formalities we must obey!
Were all well-oiled machines, Ever operating, what could this mean? With a false sense of prosperity, But where is the sincerity? Its never there
From the crib to our graves, Were forced to run as if were slaves. And yet we choose to neglect, Everything that we object.
Were all well-oiled machines, Ever operating, what could this mean? Part of th


The Cemetery GateThe Cemetery GateThe Cemetery Gate
In the middle of the night, When everything is still, There is a single light, And a ghostly chill. You here a scream of pain, And slow and heavy breath, It seems someone’s been slain, And has encountered death.
You gaze towards the light, To your surprise you see, There is a ghastly sight, In the cemetery. And through its ancient gate, Although you’re filled with dread, You watch the living state, Of those who’ve long been dead.
Through the cemetery gate,
The lifeless rise with hate, It’s a
Hope you have a good time on dA.
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?/l、
(゚、 。 7
l、 ~ヽ
じしf_, )ノ
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