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?