Текст песни Бригадный Подряд - Работа

I went to work
Though the meaning of it I have not found
I managed to work
But by noon I uprel
I work for a conscience
But do not write me a story
Before lunch took two hundred
And here it makes sense and everything is in place

loss :

The whole day grind details
Oh got gears
The foreman on a life of punk
My sausage machine funk
A friend sticks to fusion
And I fuck your fusion is needed
Well I'm an expert on music
I went to a rock concert

loss :

At work, I burn
Not always when smoke
I'm chip carving
But I did not notice
In the shower where tears are not visible
I cry because I hurt
Well I learned not to boast
Fighter invisible front
Dying at work
But this will not recognize
I tried the way
But I am tired something very
I 'm holding a last effort
I loved his work
My favorite work
I work until vomiting

loss :

Punk is not dead !