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