and the workers come in at one
the night shift has just begun
faces weary from a bosses shout
cause they know there's no way out
of the factory
of this factory
well, our machines run good
our machines run good
our machines run good and clean
but whose blood is the grease?
and I know that this little place is fucking up the human race
I'm just a part of what I could be
I'm just a fragment of what I could be
in the factory
in this factory
well, our machines run good
our machines run good
our machines run good and clean
but whose blood is the grease?