There is never a life that is perfect so I create one
I was never once frozen as I gazed upon fleeting unknown
A strange state of flux
A terror abounds
I tend to my garden
Of misshapen ground
We find crutches upon which we prop ourselves up in this city
If you use words to paint strange revealings and stains, there is pity
I volunteer in death
This life is no longer mine
The cross of st peter
A lost portion of time
A word is a collection of translations of manipulation and desire
I spread my art through melodies that encompass a choir
I feel growth in the world as I elaborate on apocrypha
I cultivate lovely feelings from all across the world
A vulture appears from dusk
I find myself revolting
A cannibalistic aura
I know longer know what is happening
My skin turned red as heat inside my heart
The wings were beautiful, mechanical brilliance, calculated art
I find purpose in order, is there God in chaos and fire
My chess game is irregular, no matter how we start
Mechanical Brilliance Video (MV)
Erik Fredriksen - Mechanical Brilliance Lyrics
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There is never a life that is perfect so I create one
I was never once frozen as I gazed upon fleeting unknown
A strange state of flux
A terror abounds
I tend to my garden
Of misshapen ground
We find crutches upon which we prop ourselves up in this city
If you use words to paint strange revealings and stains, there is pity
I volunteer in death
This life is no longer mine
The cross of st peter
A lost portion of time
A word is a collection of translations of manipulation and desire
I spread my art through melodies that encompass a choir
I feel growth in the world as I elaborate on apocrypha
I cultivate lovely feelings from all across the world
A vulture appears from dusk
I find myself revolting
A cannibalistic aura
I know longer know what is happening
My skin turned red as heat inside my heart
The wings were beautiful, mechanical brilliance, calculated art
I find purpose in order, is there God in chaos and fire
My chess game is irregular, no matter how we start
I was never once frozen as I gazed upon fleeting unknown
A strange state of flux
A terror abounds
I tend to my garden
Of misshapen ground
We find crutches upon which we prop ourselves up in this city
If you use words to paint strange revealings and stains, there is pity
I volunteer in death
This life is no longer mine
The cross of st peter
A lost portion of time
A word is a collection of translations of manipulation and desire
I spread my art through melodies that encompass a choir
I feel growth in the world as I elaborate on apocrypha
I cultivate lovely feelings from all across the world
A vulture appears from dusk
I find myself revolting
A cannibalistic aura
I know longer know what is happening
My skin turned red as heat inside my heart
The wings were beautiful, mechanical brilliance, calculated art
I find purpose in order, is there God in chaos and fire
My chess game is irregular, no matter how we start
Writer: Erik Fredriksen
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid