A mechanics stigmata, work under the gun.
Stuck under the hood, hiding from the sun.
Sleep s not important, hunger s not around.
Screwing like a freak, drooling like a hound.
It has gotta click, nothing can go wrong.
Gotta have it running not before too long.
Petrol in my nostrils, chaos in my head.
My palms keep drippin , staying out of bed.

Hand me the wrench and the trucker speed.
Gonna work til I ve got hands that bleed.

Deadline s approaching, morning has just come.
Tightening the last bolt, have I made it run ?
I turn the key, it awakes with a shout.
I made it through the night, it s all set to take em out.
It has gotta click, nothing can go wrong.
Gotta have it running not before too long.
Sleep s not important, hunger s not around.
Screwing like a freak, drooling like a hound.

Hand me the wrench and the trucker speed.
Gonna work til I ve got hands that bleed.