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