C
wrench the mechanism to its finest working order in the dark dust the slip the turning of the wheel defy the potter o my body now it’s started guard yourself against the ever oncoming slaughter work harder my machine there’s struggle to be made make me nerve make me armor
steel for work knuckles brass for taxes act like scratchin in the concrete discrete aint old hat this engine’s not the rust engine not the bust engine this engine’s the dust engine wield my wealth of dust and bolts so bad like we were the first engine
and I work for not to make more somethin of myself when I am plenty
work to make more plenty for my family where there isn’t any
how long to get it how hard to hit it’s hardly even when the stars in the far corners of the jar of this world this war there are no walls are and grit does time gets it done gets weary metal working in the weary sun grit gets dirt gets the odd nickel six penny copper seven to one and there are always will be none so while the clay is animated may the jaded day into the faded even