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