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