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And it's go, boys, go,
They'll time your every breath;
And every day you're in this place,
You're two days nearer death,
But you go.
Well, a process man am I and I'm telling you no lies,
I work and breathe among the fumes that tread across the sky;
There's thunder all around me and there's poison in the air.
There's a lousy smell that smacks of hell and dust all in me hair.
And it's go, boys, go.
They'll time your every breath;
And every day you're in this place,
You're two days nearer death.
But you go.
Well, I've worked among the spinners and I breathed the oily smoke,
I shoveled up the gypsum, and that nylon makes you choke;
I've been knee deep in cyanide, got sick with a caustic burn,
Been working rough, I've seen enough to make your stomach turn.
And it's go, boys, go.
They'll time your every breath;
And every day you're in this place,
You're two days nearer death.
But you go.
There's overtime and bonus opportunity galore,
The young men like their money and they all come back for more;
But soon you're knock'n on and you look older than you should,
For every bob made on the job is paid with flesh and blood.
And it's go, boys, go.
They'll time your every breath;
And every day you're in this place,
You're two days nearer death.
But you go.
Well, a process man am I and I'm telling you no lies,
I work and breathe among the fumes that tread across the sky;
There's thunder all around me and there's poison in the air,
There's a lousy smell that smacks of hell and dust all in me hair.
And it's go, boys, go.
They'll time your every breath;
And every day you're in this place,
You're two days nearer death.
But you go.
And it's go, boys, go.
They'll time your every breath;
And every day you're in this place,
You're two days nearer death.
But you go.
