13 years on the factory line
gears for brains & no f**ing 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 f**ing 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