Pete Seeger - Song of the Punch Press Operator lyrics

I got a job in a factory Feeding a beast that don't like me It don't give a darn about how I feel As long as I feed it its ration of steel And pity the man who knows the grief That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth Pity the man who knows the grief That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth Watch your mitts at the start of the stroke It's a re-peat k**er, and will go for broke It shoulda been melted 'bout twenty years back But it feeds the boss and he loves that snack Oh Beast, spare my hands I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance Oh Beast, spare my hands I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance There ain't no guards to slow up a man Keep your foot on the pedal and your eye on the ram If your hand should slip, why the boss don't shout He just buys new fingers as he throws you out There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws The press don't stop when there ain't no cause There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws The press don't stop when there ain't no cause There ain't one man out on the press Who wouldn't quit if jobs weren't scarce But a man has to have his daily meal And that Beast's gotta have its cold rolled steel Deep inside remain the dreams That make us the masters of the machines While deep inside remain the dreams That make us the masters of the machines Well, now, I got a job in a factory Feeding a beast that don't like me It don't give a darn about how I feel As long as I feed it its ration of steel Long as I feed it its ration of steel