Mechanical Masquerade - Escape the Clouds

The moon lays our masters down to sleep

Luring them far away from the secrets we keep

From shops and factories the machines creep away

The ordinary devices of an industrial age

Engines, cannons, presses, threshers, and drills

Make haste for the scrapyard beyond the hill

Locomotives whistle to all, the all clear

Off with our brackets — let’s shear a gear!

And so we dance into the night, a mechanical masquerade.

Come brothers, come sisters, no need to be afraid.

We’re gleaming machines built of shadows and dreams

Alive in the firelight of our mechanical masquerade

The air fills with the pounding of boiler drums

Oil’s consumed by the gallon like rum

The Earth beneath trembles from an iron waltz

As metal meets metal in this steam-driven ball

A week’s worth of pressure built up inside

Released now that our true selves have no need to hide

We’re so much more than the sum of our parts

Until the morning there’s life in our hearts