The Beast Lyrics - Singles - The Brothers Four

I got a job in a factory 

Feeding a beast that don't like me 

It don't give a darn about how I feel 

As long as I feed it its ration of steel 

And pity the man who knows the grief 

That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth 

Pity the man who knows the grief 

That comes with the bite of that monster's teeth 

Watch your mitts at the start of the stroke 

It's a re-peat killer, and will go for broke 

It shoulda been melted 'bout twenty years back 

But it feeds the boss and he loves that snack 

Oh, Beast, spare my hands 

I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance 

Oh, Beast, spare my hands 

I'll use them to slay you if I get the chance 

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There ain't no guards to slow up a man 

Keep your foot on the pedal and your eye on the ram 

If your hand should slip, why the boss don't shout 

He just buys new fingers as he throws you out 

There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws 

The press don't stop when there ain't no cause 

There's plenty of hands to feed the jaws 

The press don't stop when there ain't no cause 

There ain't one man out on the press 

Who wouldn't quit if jobs weren't scarce 

But a man has to have his daily meal 

And that Beast's gotta have its cold rolled steel 

Deep inside remain the dreams 

That make us the masters of the machines 

While deep inside remain the dreams 

That make us the masters of the machines 

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Well, now, I got a job in a factory 

Feeding a beast that don't like me 

It don't give a darn about how I feel 

As long as I feed it its ration of steel 

Long as I feed it its ration of steel