Gather round, I've got something big to tell you:
Pretty soon we won't have to work outside all day,
We won't have to push our bodies to the breaking point just to get some honest pay.
It's the rage far across the sea in England.
I've been told that they only work ten hours per week.
For the rest of the time they get to just relax, go on holiday and lounge around at the beach.

So say goodbye to a day-to-day existence.
Say goodbye to wondering if the harvest is enough.
There's a better type of living in our future, and it's full of nicer stuff.
We can work, safely sheltered from the outside world,
With machines that each do as much as fifty men,
In a building built specifically to house them. All we have to do is push a button again and again.

We'll all get paid.

There are men who will oversee our actions.
They are hired supervisors of the factory.
They are kind and respectful of the workers, like a little family.
They won't push us harder than we think we ought to work,
Just to get a couple hundred extra units sent,
And our diligence will always be appreciated. All we have to do is pull a lever again and again.

We'll all get paid.
We won't be slaves.
No, we won't be slaves.

This is the end of our difficult existence.
Pretty soon everything is going to be okay.
We'll all eat lunch from a tray, let's go!