If this machine doesn't stop, what will you do if it never goes out
 Never goes out of season

 It never stops as it turns, there ain't no passion, yet it burns
 Introducing my prison

 Losing myself in this place, soon I'm gone without a trace
 Freed with that final incision

 Look my heart it's a bird, it needs to sing and to be heard
 Not this clockwork precision

 And the machine grows idiotic
 Who's gonna be its ingenious critic

 Everybody loves the perfect solution
 To beat the odds against the poorest possible substitution
 What you see is never what you're gonna get
 Everybody's playing revolution roulette

 Leaves you no arguments to trade, you can try the key or you can wait
 But the lock will not open

 So you're left with sanity to lose, cos the machine is [bad word] 
 Another invention [bad word] them

 It's like a fistful of snake eyes, a hand grenade with bye byes
 Like a million spent on nothing

 It's kinda like a pick in their lock, when you never went "knock knock, hello, anybody home? [bad word] in".
 With a touch of foreboding

 And the machine grows parasitic
 Who's gonna critisize the good critic

 Everybody loves...

 Everybody has the perfect solution
 It's just hard to resist the sweet seduction
 There ain't no trick to winning double what you bet
 [bad word] to revolution roulette

 Everybody loves...