From head they swamp with petrol,
Radiate the smells of excrement,
Their fucking brigade tries to plough on tractors,
Soon will come the evening after working day.
All they fight for living,
But cars begin to fail,
All they fight for living,
And starve can't be on planet.
Crumb away to pieces their tractors,
Engrossing the shelves of our shops,
Work like animals in little cages,
And be bored stiff to dearth without wages.
All they fight for living,
But cars begin to fail,
All they fight for living,
And starve can't be on planet.
All they fight for living,
But cars begin to fail,
All they fight for living,
And starve can't be on planet.
All they fight for living,
But cars begin to fail,
All they fight for living,
And starve can't be on planet.

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