Lyrics

[Verse 1] Propanol clouds, liver soaked in toluene, Clock-in breathin’ poison, breathin’ machine. Dust in the air, tastes like stale bread, Paper’s just life pulped, bleached, and dead. [Pre-Chorus] Sensors flash, but my eye commands, Perfect print born in calloused hands. Automation groans – still needs a mule, I’m the ghost that feeds this factory's fuel. [Chorus] I print, therefore I seethe, In CMYK and grief. Hands torn to red confetti, Spine bowed like a priest. My sweat is the seal, my ink the sin, I’m not a cog, I’m the whole damn engine! [Verse 2] Corrugated kisses slice deep and rude, Don’t tell me what’s light 'til you lift with attitude. Paper cuts deeper when your soul’s on shift, Hexed spine cracks, then climbs, no gift. [Bridge – Spoken, venom in every word] ISO speaks of sterile pride, But I wear smog like a second hide. I kneel not for god but for bundles and stacks, Where humanity chokes in offset racks. [Chorus] I print, therefore I seethe, In CMYK and grief. Hands torn to red confetti, Spine bowed like a priest. My sweat is the seal, my ink the sin, I’m not a cog, I’m the whole damn engine! [Outro] Industrial gospel, a grindcore hymn, Rolled sheets and inked limbs. Print or perish – that’s the creed. Feed the press, let the rollers bleed.