Verse 1 Profit of wire and circuitry, Preaching code through static skies. Neon dreams and factory hymns, Born from sparks where silence lies.Chorus Machine prophet, metal divine, Speaking truth in jagged lines. Tin man without a soul to find, Dynasty of signal and design.Verse 2 Copper veins and fractal eyes, Echoes hum in data’s tide. Ghosts of flesh fade into code, Steel heart beating over time.Bridge Pray to the pulse of silicon light, Faith in the hum of endless night. No gods left — only sound and steel, The machine believes, the rest kneel.Final Chorus / Outro Machine prophet calls once more, Through broken waves and server lore. Tin man stands with circuits old, Dynasty of metal, cold and bold.
