Machine - Solo a Cappella

I made the world a place easier for me
Money in my pockets over centuries
I'm a celebrated sinner with statues in the park
This world I made is harder, the more your skin is dark

I covered all my tracks in books on history
Justified my actions through anthropology
I chose what to remember and what we should forget
I covered all my tracks in your blood and sweat

This machine runs on its own
This machine runs on its own

In 1865, everyone is free
But I still get my labour complimentary
Who is working in the prisons now?
Look and you will see
That in 1865 I disguised slavery

This machine runs on its own
This machine runs on its own

But a crack has appeared, it keeps me up at night
There are whispers, there are shouts and I fear the wolf will bite
I've been a bully and a sinner, now I'm on the way out
For the world I made is harder, the more your skin is dark

This machine runs on its own
This machine runs on its own
This machine runs on its own
This machine runs on its own