The iron claw of society demolishes the extinguished uterus

Carry the child of idiosyncrasy through the assembly line.
All the chimney flues of the country spit their black smoke.
The work on the chain is its own man of action, the will to create will set it free.
A piercing cry breaks the domestic peace, and fists beat in rhythm.
Work has become your religion, your manager, your wife.
All the chimney flues of the country spit their black smoke.
The work on the chain is its own man of action, the will to create will set it free.

Long live equality!
Long live corruption!
Long live wealth!
Long live basic safety!
Long live the power of money!
Long live decadence!
Long live control!
Long live violence!
Long live health!
Long live human dignity!
Long live the power of money!
Long live decadence!


The union of the informal handworker requires absolute growth.
The pure society of management increases the cost of living.
The mass of chimneys of the country spit their black smoke.
Work chains down the workman. The will to create will rouse them.
The individual is the society, they serve the community.
The statistics were increased to the desired level
The mass of chimneys of the country spit the willingness of those humble.
The poor thank the council, the praise will subdue the poor


Lyrics submitted by gothic_hobbit

Elakoon (English) song meanings
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