Factory Line

13 years on the factory line
Gears for brains & no fucking spine
Given everything we didn’t need
Taught to bleed & taught to believe
In a preserve cooker
You’re told just how to think
They’ll tell you when to blink
I’m in a preserve cooker
And a chain is only as strong
As its weakest link
Like cattle to the chopping block
Soon as we’re old enough to talk
The weak will off themselves
By grade 9
The rest’ll be fine products
Of the factory line
I’ve scaled those wills just to fall back in
I’ve never had any fucking trouble with a life of sin
And I scrape the bottom of the barrel
I find myself, I wonder where I’ve been
My whole life
Call home & tell 'em I’m doing fine
Swept up in the bump & grind victimized
Deaf, dumb and blind