Singer (Live) Lyrics

The walls of this factory

Maintain the heights and watts of neon lights

That keep my workin' hands dry

The uppermost tiered balcony

Is anxious to peer down at me at night

My machine won't skip a beat

The sweatpool on the shop floor doesn't phase me

I wouldn't wear this clothing if you paid me

The walls streaming wet with steam

Make certain that I've left no seam behind

Every meter, bolt, and mile

I started late at twenty two

You see it is our custom to be blind

Come the age of thirty three

The sweatpool on the shop floor doesn't phase me

I wouldn't wear this clothing if you paid me

Good thing you don't

Through coils of unravelled trim

The lights upstairs pulsate from dim to bright

In a wavering supply

With careless notions strewn about

The hours weeks and months without a sign

I might ever rest my feet

The sweatpool on the shop floor doesn't phase me

I wouldn't wear this clothing if you paid me

Good thing you don't

The sweatpool on the shop floor doesn't phase me

I wouldn't wear this clothing if you paid me

Good thing you don't

The sweatpool on the shop floor doesn't phase me

I wouldn't wear this clothing if you paid me

Good thing you don't

The sweatpool on the shop floor doesn't phase me

I wouldn't wear this clothing if you paid me

Good thing you don't