Lyrics:

The song title is german and means “Work makes flesh”. It is basically a pun, based around “Arbeit macht frei”, which translates to “Work makes (you) free”. Those were the words at the gate of Auschwitz.
Prognathous gears grind
So diligent and serrated they mesh
Toothed cogs churn
So trechant
Against soft flesh
Worked to the bone
Up to the hilt
Depredated
Raw materialism
To stoke the furnaces

Toiling, rotting
Life slowly slips away
Consumed, inhumed

In this mechanized
Corruption line
By mincing machinery
Industrialised
Pulped and pulverised
Enslaved to the grind

Blood, sweat, soil, tears
Arbeit macht frei

Grave to the grind

Blood, sweat, soil, tears
Arbeit macht fleisch

Inimitable gears twist
To churn a living grave
Stainless cogs shredding
Scathing pistons
Bludgeon and flail
Stripping to the bone
Retund mandrels levigate
Just raw material
Your pound of flesh
For the suzerain

Toiling, rotting
Life slowly dissipates
Consumed, inhumed

In a corruption line
Mechanized
By mincing machinery
Industrialized
Crunched and brutalised
A grave to the blind

Blood, sweat, soil, tears
Arbeit macht frei
Blood, sweat, soil, tears
Arbeit macht fleisch