"Sunday" is your freedom
They concede you a miserable truce
Take it as the sweetest present life can give
6 days a week of monotony, humiliations, sheer submission
How can you accept it??
How can you fit the rules of a game
Where "money" is the perpetual winner
And you're just a worthless pawn arranged on its draughtboard...??
Profit, career, social climb
Send your freedom to the gallows
Take the rope and f*ck it again
Slaves chained to a**embly lines, offices
Bent over desks, glued to TV screens...
"Sunday" will be their compensation
Horses waiting for their sugarplums
Sunday tradition is their happiness
Sunday you can be lazy, wake up late
Watch your fave programs, f*ck your partner to the bone...
Ignoring that while you do it there's someone standing on your back
Ready to stick 6 fingers in your stripped a**
"Give me a moment's respite, embrace this sweet-uncertain chest
Make me feel... at least something - Stain me with s**, deep down...
No fun. No pleasure. I need nothing but normality."
Work burns out. Repetitive actions whitered a lovely mind
Fragmentary comforts dug a deep grave. And now...
"Zajebat lijudi je znacenije tvog zivota."