the metal man sits in the nights comforting shadows
only the utterances of his steam engine soul
reveal his presence
phrases like prayers still fall from cold lips
on his polished bronze face
but the conviction they once held
now bitter and faded
taste of rust and tainted oils

the metal mans hand twitches
and folds on the armchairs rest
unconsciously seeking the comforts of its creators hand
seeking comfort and absolution
at the counsel of soulless

pity this dark creature stitched in misery's shadows
his metal heart labours on to his fate
like the mindless apostles of hate
but neath that cold dark lens lives a soul

no man or woman is beyond redemption
none can speak to that tale that have not walked its bitter road
pity this dark beast as much as you ware its hand
we are all children neath the anvil of the sun
we are all born innocent
we all die alone

the metal man now unmoving
silence slowly spreads over him
as the rust of the living world creeps upon
and claims him
i stand there next to him
watching the fires of his engine dim and flicker
watching as the phrases like prayers falling coldly
from his brass carved lips slowly trickle to a halt
as his will returns to the sand
that created him

pity this creature as much as you ware his dark hand
the darkly world comes
lens of his eye dose not perceive you
only what its design impels it to believe
only the tissue of lies that are its dreams
sanguine the metal man now rust
comes undone