"The machinery of the heavens is not like a divine animal but like a clock. And anyone who believes a clock has a soul gives the work the honour due to its maker."
― Johannes Kepler (1571 - 1630)
lyrics
Anxiety is burning me inside
I'm staring deeper with eyes opened wide
The laws are set, the movements scripted, the variations are dismissed
But if the chance has been restricted, then does the choice itself exist
Is there a way to live in peace being a part of the machine
We never cared to see we are the smallest cogs
Rotating endlessly inside this perfect clock
We churn each other up in ruthless fights for oil
The movement never stops, we kill to get the spoil
The gears are turning on not letting us to see
That we are not alone, just trying hard to be
I'm just a part of the machine, who would confide this world to me
We'll never care to see we are the smallest cogs
Destroying everything inside this perfect clock
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