The Whittall Mills is an historic industrial complex off Brussels Street in southern Worcester, Massachusetts. The complex, which was built between 1870 and 1930, is a reminder of the large carpet manufacturing business that was once a major presence in the city. It is a complex of 15 brick buildings located on a bend of the Middle River (a tributary of the Blackstone River), south of Crompton Street and just west of Interstate 290.
The mill complex has its origins in about 1870, when the first of the surviving buildings, a three story brick building with a mansard roof, was erected by the Crompton Rug Company. It was followed a few years later by a dye house. Crompton Rug went out of business in 1879, and these premises were leased to William Hogg, who eventually formed the Worcester Carpet Company, which expanded the complex with a second major mill and the purchase of additional water rights in 1893.
Matthew Whittall, who first gained notice as a supervisor at Crompton Rug, had opened his own factory in other parts of Worcester in 1874. By 1883 his business had grown, and he acquired land next to the Crompton works, where he built a series of buildings over the next 23 years. At the time of the First World War, Whittall was the largest employer in south Worcester, with 1,500 workers operating 350 mills in 500,000 square feet of factory space. The products he produced were purchased by the federal government for use in its buildings, and were selected by President William McKinley for use in the White House.
Found him naked on the bed
His eyes were vacant, dark and dead
The TV screen the ghosts of gloom
The silver light of thirteen moons
He died alone, there were no friends
To cut the scene, to change the end
He left his mark and through it all
He never turned from the white wall
They found him naked on the bed
His eyes were vacant, dark and dead
The TV screen and the ghosts of gloom
The silver light of thirteen moons
He died alone and there were no friends
To cut the scene, to change the end
He left his mark and through it all
He never turned from the white wall
White wall
White wall
White wall
White wall
The visions poured out of his head
Shedding light on the things we dread
The darkness of the human heart
Further further down to the deepest part
The image that evades all speech
He'd always surf, he liked the beach
He left his mark and through it all
He never turned from the white wall
White wall
White wall
White wall
White wall
White ... wall
White ... wall
White ... wall
White ... wall
When the light turns red I think of you
You know the devil's thinking too
Of how we turned against this life
You fuck with death now it's your wife
And like a movie when it ends
The screen turns blank and white again
Lying there he looks so small
A speck of light on the white wall
White wall
White wall
White wall
White wall
White ... wall
White ... wall
White ... wall
White ... wall