Petty Wage — текст песни (Swingin` Utters)

I`ve said, and once too often, some things i`d never say again. in streams of thoughts unbroken i fish for a few good men (chorus) sundays and holidays and twelve hours straight no pay for bloody hands and believe me they pay a petty wage my poor self pity speaks with sobbing mumbled words strewn with the awful taste of bad, cowardly prose. (Chorus) i`d take some time to get my posture set straight if i had the chance i`d break and subdue the scheming hands of fate. wrap up your limp red mass of knuckles and fingertips it`s fighting time and time to battle with your wits, time to spit back when you`re spit upon, when you`re left for dead. time to hit the road when the road you`re on has run out of tricks (chorus) i don`t want your sundays and holidays of twelve hours straight no pay for bloody hands, no i don`t want your fucking petty wage (Koski)