Well I finally made the job I was dead on time
But he was staring at his watch through his narrowed eyes
He was the owner of a quite stately home
And he was proud to watch me clean his windows all on his own
But as I made my way through the hallway
My mouth fell open, I was amazed
How could he hide a factory line in his backyard
I didn’t know what to say
But there was so much more than what met the eye
I had to gather my thoughts, recover my mind
There was a job to be done and the choice I made
Was to make enquiries with the staff about their pay
Cause the workers kept working on
And the workers kept working on and on
There were shelves upon shelves with ancient treats
Like an antiques dealer with a set complete
I looked out through the glass to the factory line
Where the workers made the sweets, perfect in time
But through it all I heard a disruption
Machine guns barked and blew out my eardrums
I ducked while lollies blew out like confetti
Then I found out where it came from
But a simple dispute between man and wife
Had a way of causing some serious strife
The home owner who seemed so posh and smart
Had a serious problem with his other half
But the workers kept working on
And the workers kept working on and on
The bullets ripped through some giant canisters
That held the lollies packed before they could be shipped
Cracking up like fireworks bursting apart
But all the madman did was fire as he laughed
I wondered what became of my paycheck
The windows were clean but he destroyed them
Maybe that was the least of my problems
So I just stayed right down
But when I finally got up, I was quite amazed
That all was intact, not even a graze
The sweets that stuck to me turned to mush
And I realised I’d had quite enough
But the workers keep working on
And the workers keep working on and on
The lollies all ended up on the ground
The ammunition blown, they put their guns down
The unfazed factory workers felt it was time
To find a way get the lollies back, back to the line
A conveyor stretched all the way
From the factory line toward the bay
A recovery work like no other
In the lengths that they made
I thought of asking for my payment
But he hadn’t lowered his gun to the pavement
His wife was reloading for a second round
So I thought I’d take off back to town
But the workers keep working on
Yeah the workers keep working on
Yeah the workers keep working on
Yeah the workers keep working on
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