An poem
Today as always
It cannot be stopped
Not with winsome aplomb
Or a cash winning smile
You try and you will fail
The march of industry goes on
Do not be afraid, little one
It is industry that you seek
For comfort, for dinner, for jobs
For the periodicals we read
And the bottoms we penetrate
It must be said, far and wide
There is no hope for you
Not without the wonder of industry
It comes and it will never go
The drumbeats will sound
The march of industry goes on
You will have your idle life torn from your bosom
Lawn chairs will be burned
Gas grills thrown into eager dumpsters
You are your family are ready
Forced to work on the factor floor
Peanuts on the dollar is your pay
The ass of the American worker
Needs instruction, correction, penetration
We the bosses will provide
You will drive the gears with
Blood, sweat, and filthy pointless tears
The march of industry goes on
Submit to what you know is true
You cannot fight nor resist its call
This is what we are here for
Get down in that boiler room
Prepare to live down there forever
Driving the gears of industry
You will have no love, no family, no home
Your ass will belong to the man with the gun
Submit, go with the man, give it up willingly
You cannot escape, the man will come
He will mount you from behind
The march of undustry goes on