That old good machine
Silver meat machine
Pumping aviation oil
Aviation oil — the best
It gives a terrible kick
It’s beating like a stick
When it will hit — it will kill
When it won’t kill — it will whirr
Be cruel, my machine — machine — made in steel
Be cruel, my machine — machine — made in steel
I won’t replace you for another one
I will not look for the other scum
Go on, go on, go on!
Come on — break out the storm
That old tin with a rust
Loyal pork diesel
The bolts and the rivets crushed
To drive, we need no reason!
An engine booms like a bell
Can you feel that hellish smell?
When it will hit — it will kill
When it won’t kill — it will whirr
Be cruel, my machine — machine — made in steel
Be cruel, my machine — machine — made in steel
I won’t replace you for another one
I will not look for the other scum
Go on, go on, go on!
Come on — break out the storm
My meat, obese machine
Fast like a weasel
It creaks, it screams, it grinds
This brute is unkind…
When it won’t kill — it will whirr
Machine — made in steel
When it won’t kill — it will whirr
Machine — made in steel
I won’t replace you for another one
I will not look for the other scum
Go on, go on, go on!
Come on — break out the storm