Ooh, the work whips its maker*
With the whip of the gentlemen's fine flesh
Strung with the leather of a humble people
Tanned to Porto's prayers
Pay slip in hand, wait for the final account
Overalls sweaty and tight
And the cap covered with shame
A furious wail and a dark scream
A madman's laugh runs down his face like oatmeal
Work liberates its creator
But no slave longs for his freedom
Gloves to the rack
Grabs the middle part and sets the worker on fire
Work liberates its creator
But a slave doesn't long for freedom
He wears a glove to the rack
He grabs a bottle of liquor and sets the worker on fire
The boss offers a greasy glove
The flame did the glove's job
Having a coffee break with Pietarin
Jobs in gloves with a clumsy beard
Work sets its maker free
But no slave longs for freedom
Work sets his maker free
But a man doesn't miss his wife
Checking the lottery line
Grabs the neighbor's lady like a middle-aged man
Work liberates its creator
But man doesn't long for life
Checks the knot in the rope
Grabs the wine bottle and the last dance begins

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