| Song | God Machine |
| Artist | Acid Bath |
| Album | Demos: 1993-1996 |
| 作词 : Duet, Kyle, Pitre, Riggs ... | |
| "The God machine is hungry for individualism and ripe brains. The skull farmers do their rain dance and pray the machine falls to sleep. She holds me close and whispers wet, "there are cannibals among us". Mad in love with dry dead whores in the backs of abandoned cars. Smoking the bones of jesus, plotting the murder of love." | |
| Strapped into the chair the needle now descends | |
| As they lick their cracking lips their twitching never ends | |
| Blood beneath their finger nails, swallow all my pain | |
| Dirty needles break the skin, suck hard as | |
| I drain Drain me (x2) | |
| Sunken eyes, a twisted spine, a whiter shade of pale | |
| Rockabilly man come to pound the coffin nails | |
| Inject my stomach full of cockroach eggs | |
| Their machine is coming carried on a million legs | |
| Waking in the sleep of reason, winter is the forever season | |
| Lick thy mother's bleeding lips, from this glass of hate we sip | |
| **** the glass we pump the keg, kill conception at the egg | |
| Her chin is wet with someone's hate, love, disfigure, amputate | |
| Amputate (x2) | |
| Can you remember how it felt to be alive? | |
| Your god machine is cold and dead your eyes they cannot cry | |
| **** your deities of dying love! | |
| We have shot them down from the skies above | |
| Screaming convulsing, my eyes are bleeding | |
| Be silent now and take your beating | |
| I wonder how long you would live with a bullet in your gut | |
| I wonder how much shit you'd talk if your throat was cut | |
| I wonder what you'd sound like begging me to let you breathe | |
| I wonder how much pain it would take to make you all believe | |
| Believe, believe, believe, believe in me, yeah | |
| I'm your god machine | |
| **** your god! |
| zuò cí : Duet, Kyle, Pitre, Riggs ... | |
| " The God machine is hungry for individualism and ripe brains. The skull farmers do their rain dance and pray the machine falls to sleep. She holds me close and whispers wet, " there are cannibals among us". Mad in love with dry dead whores in the backs of abandoned cars. Smoking the bones of jesus, plotting the murder of love." | |
| Strapped into the chair the needle now descends | |
| As they lick their cracking lips their twitching never ends | |
| Blood beneath their finger nails, swallow all my pain | |
| Dirty needles break the skin, suck hard as | |
| I drain Drain me x2 | |
| Sunken eyes, a twisted spine, a whiter shade of pale | |
| Rockabilly man come to pound the coffin nails | |
| Inject my stomach full of cockroach eggs | |
| Their machine is coming carried on a million legs | |
| Waking in the sleep of reason, winter is the forever season | |
| Lick thy mother' s bleeding lips, from this glass of hate we sip | |
| the glass we pump the keg, kill conception at the egg | |
| Her chin is wet with someone' s hate, love, disfigure, amputate | |
| Amputate x2 | |
| Can you remember how it felt to be alive? | |
| Your god machine is cold and dead your eyes they cannot cry | |
| your deities of dying love! | |
| We have shot them down from the skies above | |
| Screaming convulsing, my eyes are bleeding | |
| Be silent now and take your beating | |
| I wonder how long you would live with a bullet in your gut | |
| I wonder how much shit you' d talk if your throat was cut | |
| I wonder what you' d sound like begging me to let you breathe | |
| I wonder how much pain it would take to make you all believe | |
| Believe, believe, believe, believe in me, yeah | |
| I' m your god machine | |
| your god! |