From the weeping womb to the tomb

Towering fuming smokestacks loomed

Aloft the emancipated industrial

mercantile maroon



Your heirs will be deprived this fate

A penitentiary as consumer villeins

Never to enter through

the grim rusting factory gates



Six, zero, two, six

Nine, six, one



Torn apart in the soul destroying...



Six, zero, two, six

Nine, six, one



The granulating dark satanic mills...



Subsisting shackled drudgers "amp; drones

Disassembly line of skin "amp; bone

Collieries not beaches

lie beneath the paving stones



When chattel black turned to white

Rigid binding chains were hidden from sight

The unborn will quench

the thirstful smouldering kiln's fires



Six, zero, two, six

Nine, six, one



Torn apart in the soul destroying...



Six, zero, two, six

Nine, six, one



Sweat "amp; no redemption in the dark satanic mills



An existence, subservient, binded you'll see

"A working class hero is something to be"

An existence, subservient, blinded you'll seed

A working class hero is something to bleed