Watch them speak in thunderclaps

No one more or much as Jack

And it's a knock 'em dead show

Pipes and joints, greased hinge and bone

One more for the slaughterhouse

For the slaughterhouse

Force from the butcher, machine-like

One mighty hand at shoulder height

Feet tread heavy on a black floor

Look at the breadth of those fingers

One more for the chopping board

For the chopping board

Cast me in this violent light

Pull my hands from my eyes

Hours go by in thunderous form

No I can't go on, I can't go on

But Jack needs no invite

Jack needs no invite

I'll do myself in, I'll do myself in

I'll do myself in, I'll do myself in