Рабочие кулаки

The bulb is flickering, the wiring shorts out
Shift is over, but who sleeps about?
Hands in grease, dirt under the nails
The boss was screaming, but I didn't fail.
Going down below, to the damp concrete
No fashion here, no laws of the street.
Old punching bag, taped up tight
We hit it with everything, with all our might!

Припев
Working fists! Dark in the cellar!
We don't give a damn about your glamour!
Blood on the wraps, sweat on the floor
We sharpen ourselves like a steel needle core!
Oi! Oi! Oi!
Dark in the cellar!
Oi! Oi! Oi!
We give a damn!


You pay for fitness to take a selfie shot
We break our knuckles here on the wood rot.
Smell of iron, rust on the pipes
Every second guy here is rough and gripes.
But if you meet trouble out on the street
I will stand tall, I won't retreat.
This isn't a sport, it's a way to survive
When this city tries to eat you alive...
Squeeze us dry!

Припев
Working fists! Dark in the cellar!
We don't give a damn about your glamour!
Blood on the wraps, sweat on the floor
We sharpen ourselves like a steel needle core!
Oi! Oi! Oi!
Dark in the cellar!
Oi! Oi! Oi!
Wine for the workers!


They look down on us from their offices.
They think we are trash.
But when the lights go out...
Only those who can stand on their feet will remain.
Only the tough ones. Only our own.
Get up!
I said — GET UP!



Припев
Working fists! Dark in the cellar!
We don't give a damn about your glamour!
Blood on the wraps, sweat on the floor
We sharpen ourselves like a steel needle core!
Working fists!
Working fists!
Strike! Strike! Strike!