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 & drones

Disassembly line of skin & 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 & 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