As time goes by, I see my hands
They tragically seems to be
Two victims of reality
Two victims of hard work
That I'm applying day by day
What I could say to my son?
I'm very tired
I can't play with you
What I produce just disappears
In the hands of the land property
And, why? Because I do my best
To keep my hands a little safe
So I can play with you all day
Yes, keep you in my hands all day
(One, two, three, go!)
So I can play with you all day!
The way I wait you my fucking friend
I'm sure I love you my son
