Snowy Atlas Mountains

We came down by the factory Industrial yarns where my father did work When I was a boy I went too far I lost the tread in the darkest of space If I become antique you'll collect me If I become cheap then you'll respect me My jumper is soaked in pig's blood I'm coming out looking for you If you pull a hatchet I'll pull something to match it How about your wife? I will give her a good life My vehicle is in your drive Hey, I'm not that low The wolves came on the radio Transmitted through a portal In the snowy Atlas mountains