The Gilded Noose

Blindfold of progress, a comfortable lie
Marching in rhythm, with a glint in the eye
The blueprint is written in ink and in steel
A contract of silence, a fate that is sealed

They hand you the rope with a smile on their face
Say "This is the standard, this is the grace"
But under the gloss, under the chrome
You're already walking the walk to your home

We build our own cages, of chrome and of glass
The sentence is final, the moment will pass
No hand but our own turns the key in the lock
The pendulum swings... and we silence the clock

The standard of ending, the weight and the fire
The hammer is falling, the chord of the pyre
We whisper the method, a righteous design
The gilded noose tightens — the end of the line

They publish the, they polish the blade
A logical end to the games that we played
No passion, no vengeance, no gods in the sky
Just cold execution — no reason to cry

You kneel on the mark, you recite the decree
"The standard accepts you, now set yourself free"
The gears start to turn, the oil runs thin
And judgement begins from the place within

We build our own cages, of chrome and of glass
The sentence is final, the moment will pass
No hand but our own turns the key in the lock
The pendulum swings... and we silence the clock

The standard of ending, the weight and the fire
The hammer is falling, the chord of the pyre
We whisper the method, a righteous design
The gilded noose tightens — the end of the line

No mercy in mechanism...
No prayer in the machine...
Just the cold, rhythmic pulse...
Of the guillotine...

The standard... is set...
The standard... is death...

The standard of ending... (the weight)
The weight and the fire... (the fire)
The hammer is falling... (falling)
The chord of the pyre...

We whisper the method...
A righteous design...
The gilded noose tightens...
The end of the line...

The standard... the standard...
The gilded noose...
The end...