Of Some Mad American Empire Ii

A reapers machine hot white harvest bone dry land years have been spent driving this reapers machine Across desolate lands Shifting oblivion sands Of some mad American empire Insanity conspires in dreams dark stark towers reach reaching into the open sky as ravens gather black as murder On top of empirical spires Burnt out in sapphire sky a reapers machine dead at last frozen rusted stance Heliosphere novas brake on shattered glass shines bright glittering sun rays Across the dry façade Stardust fades into blurry Dark rage a machine built on the damned The last slaves of Cathode-rays In distant insane plains Ominous clouds gather Flickering lighting Deep rumbling thunder Coming insane Tyrannical summer dry rains Hover over mountain ranges Like spines bare of flesh hot White Sands bone white days years has come to pass as machines dwell On plantation lands derelict sterile In these brutal times of American madness empires dream Of a Reapers machine As they scream lost in some mad American empire