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 dredgers & drones Disassembly line of skin & bone

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