Letra da Música: Washing Your Dirt - Gazoonga Attack

I can't seem to get out of this rut I'm in.
I try to but I just can't break it, cannot shake it.
My mind works double time, it has to just to keep me in line.
Oh and it has to when I'm just so wasted, feeling vacant.

I just like to go home and have some wine.
I'd really like to everynight when my hands are sore from washing your dirt, and my back it aches from scrubbing the floors.
And at my age is that even right?
Oh and at my age is that even right?
I don't think that's even right.

Things just happen and I get carried away.
Days they just slip away and at night
I like to piss it up so it all makes sense, but is that enough?
So it all makes sense but is that enough?
So it all makes sense but is that enough?
I don't think that is enough!

I'm sick of handing forms in.
I'm over washing dishes.
I'm sick of serving food.
Yeah I'm over all of that shit.
I'm over it, over it, over it, over it, over it.........