Teeth in the Gears

[Verse 1]
We build the rack
With office pens and memos
Tie the tourniquet
With wedding rings and halos
Smile for the file
Stamp the flesh with a barcode
Turn the ribcage
To a factory for sorrow
[Chorus]
Teeth in the gears of the human machine
Grind down the weak to keep the engine clean
Dark is a habit we teach like a prayer
Saints in the mirror
But the butcher is there
[Verse 2]
History drips
From the courtroom tiles
Ash in the lint trap
Of civilized smiles
Orders phrased
Like birthday invitations
"Sign at the bottom"
For mass immolation
[Chorus]
Teeth in the gears of the human machine
Grind down the weak to keep the engine clean
Dark is a habit we teach like a prayer
Saints in the mirror
But the butcher is there (right there)
[Bridge]
Who drew the map
From thought to slaughter?
Who blessed the blade
And named it “order”?
Every quiet neighbor
Sharpening a doubt
One small excuse
And the monster steps out (hey!)
[Chorus]
Teeth in the gears of the human machine
Grind down the weak to keep the engine clean
Rot in the heart that we dress up as care
Crowns made of contracts
And a noose made of air

metal, Blackened death metal with jagged tremolo riffs, blast beats that lurch into half-time stomps, and guttural male vocals doubled by distant shrieks. Verses stay tight and frantic; chorus drops into an anthemic, chantable crawl with dissonant chords. Bridge erupts into a chaotic riff pile-up, then locks into a head-crushing groove for the final hook.