Metamachine from Third Rail by mekaloton

maybe i’ll fake it, maybe i’ll make it, maybe i’ll take it, one of these days
writing my name in second-rate silver, drawing your face in guillotine grey
everything fading, color degrading, lighting and shading falling away
but the machine still sputters on forward, following arrows leading astray

maybe i’ll find you just to remind you that i’m behind you all of the time
how does it feel on top of your mountain while i still sit here trying to climb?
guess i’ll keep moving, never improving, do what i’m doing, keeping in line
if i can’t fix these withering pieces then i’ll just call this agony mine

coming alive, now i gotta decide
terminal ticking with a chip in its side
stop, drop, shatter my pride
or put the keys in and try what i’ve tried
thinking ‘bout nothing but the blinking on-screen
hidden under numbers, four and zero and three
try and try again, for whatever it means
wires in the wires in the metamachine

maybe i started for a good reason, but i keep going, do you know why?
call me a shark ‘cause if i stop moving all of my circuits sputter and die
think you can hear me if i start speaking, but i don’t think you’ll give it a try
said i was done with telling you stories, now i just sit here telling you lies

maybe i’ll never get what i want, but now i’ve gone so far digging below
so i’ll just keep on tunneling down no matter how hot my instruments glow
if it just took me walking through hell, i’d put my good boots on, give it a go
put me through junkyards and i’ll feel nothing, saying “ad altiora tendo”

coming alive, now i gotta decide
terminal ticking with a chip in its side
stop, drop, shatter my pride
or put the keys in and try what i’ve tried
thinking ‘bout nothing but the blinking on-screen
hidden under numbers, four and zero and three
try and try again, for whatever it means
wires in the wires in the metamachine

• Electronic
• Canada