Pack the Seam

[Кіріспе] [Wah-swept guitar riff; floor tom enters] [Куплет 1] Night pour, furnace mouth, the tap-hole starts to bleed Clay gives way in glowing threads; the floor turns bright beneath Foreman says, “run out the heat, we’ll tap before the shift is through” I drive the mandrel, pack the seam—there’s iron coming through [Қайырма] Hold that wall! pack it tight! Molten rain at the edge of night! Hands on clay, steel in the flame— You can’t bargain with the pour by name! Hold that wall! don’t let it run! Not till the tap is done! [Куплет 2] The plug is thinning, every pulse eats another inch away The trough crew waits in leather coats; no one looks away He calls the schedule over din, says we can finish clean I press the charge with both hands braced against the furnace seam [Қайырма] Hold that wall! pack it tight! Molten rain at the edge of night! Hands on clay, steel in the flame— You can’t bargain with the pour by name! Hold that wall! don’t let it run! Not till the tap is done! [Guitar solo] [Grinding wah guitar solo] [Брейкдаун] Clay in my fist! Mandrel down! Seal that hole! Hold this ground! Foreman, back! The seam is wide! Pack it hard! Keep the pour inside! [Қайырма] Hold that wall! pack it tight! Molten rain at the edge of night! Hands on clay, steel in the flame— You can’t bargain with the pour by name! Hold that wall! don’t let it run! Not till the tap is done! [Аутро] The hole goes dark; the last heat drains Clay-caked hands, a ringing name Shift bell cuts through furnace air We made the tap. we’re still here.