Sometimes my mind tries to deny
That life and work combine
I just can't handle the thought
That I'm 60 and still working the pays downwards
Stalking, the sweat on my back
The working days cut like a rope around my neck
I feel tired and dead, just want my bed
No I'm not born for working
The harder your job, hey the less you get paid
There are 10 million people who fight for a job
But I can't stand the thought working all my life
No i'm not born for working
Some years maybe but for sure not all my life
And I just want some reasons more to live on then
One week holliday and a lunchbreak
And do you live you live from lunchbreak to lunchbreak?

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