We came down by the factory
industrial yards where my father did work
When I was a boy, I went too far
I lost the thread in the darkest of space
If I become antique, you collect me
If I become cheap, then you'll respect me
My jumper is soaked in pig's blood
I'm coming out, looking for you
If you pull a hatchet
I'll pull something to match it
How about your wife?
I will give her a good life
My vehicle is in
your drive
Hey, I'm not that low
The wolves came on the radio
transmitting through a portal
in the snowy atlas mountains