Songtext von Frustrated Gangster

My remedies are back room philosophies Some protection from the passive brigades The Italians have a word for it But I don's speak a single word of it Work, work, work That's no way to make a living Meanwhile, back in the real world You and I must agree to disagree So say your piece then leave me in mine I'll step aside when they throw the book at me They'll hang themselves with their party lines Work, work, work That's no way to make a living Meanwhile back in the real world I'll skin alive the next man who says I will Stop at nothing to get all the way I'd recomend a good undertaker And of course a nice Beaujolais Work, work, work That's no way to make a living Meanwhile back in the real world You can't breathe without complications Money is the mother tongue I think at heart I'm a frustrated gangster Who can't raise enough money for a gun Work, work, work That's no way to make a living Meanwhile back in the real world Who wants the real world......