Sixteen and time to pay off
|
I got this job in a piss factory inspecting pipe
|
Forty hours thirty-six dollars a week
|
But it's a paycheck, Jack.
|
It's so hot in here, hot like Sahara
|
You could faint in the heat
|
But these bitches are just too lame to understand
|
Too goddamned grateful to get this job
|
To know they're getting screwed up the ass
|
All these women they got no teeth or gum or cranium
|
And the way they suck hot sausage
|
But me well I wasn't sayin' too much neither
|
I was moral school girl hard-working asshole
|
I figured I was speedo motorcycle
|
I had to earn my dough, had to earn my dough
|
|
But no you gotta, you gotta [relate, babe,]
|
You gotta find the rhythm within
|
Floor boss slides up to me and he says
|
"Hey sister, you just movin' too fast,
|
You screwin' up the quota,
|
You doin' your piece work too fast,
|
Now you get off your mustang sally
|
You ain't goin' nowhere, you ain't goin' nowhere."
|
I lay back. I get my nerve up. I take a swig of Romilar
|
And walk up to hot shit Dot Hook and I say
|
"Hey, hey sister it don't matter whether I do labor fast or slow,
|
There's always more labor after."
|
She's real Catholic, see. She fingers her cross and she says
|
"There's one reason. There's one reason.
|
You do it my way or I push your face in.
|
We knee you in the john if you don't get off your get off your mustang Sally,
|
If you don't shake it up baby." Shake it up, baby. Twist & shout"
|
Oh that I could will a radio here. James Brown singing
|
"I Lost Someone" or the Jesters and the Paragons
|
And Georgie Woods the guy with the goods and Guided Missiles...
|
But no, I got nothin', no diversion, no window,
|
Nothing here but a porthole in the plaster, in the plaster,
|
Where I look down, look at sweet Theresa's convent
|
All those nurses, all those nuns scattin' 'round
|
With their bloom hoods like cats in mourning.
|
Oh to me they, you know, to me they look pretty damn free down there
|
Down there not having crystal smooth
|
Not having to smooth those hands against hot steel
|
Not having to worry about the [inspeed] the dogma the [inspeed] of labor
|
They look pretty damn free down there,
|
And the way they smell, the way they smell
|
And here I gotta be up here smellin' Dot Hook's midwife sweat
|
I would rather smell the way boys smell--
|
Oh those schoolboys the way their legs flap under the desks in study hall
|
That odor rising roses and ammonia
|
And way their dicks droop like lilacs
|
Or the way they smell that forbidden acrid smell
|
But no I got, I got pink clammy lady in my nostril
|
Her against the wheel me against the wheel
|
Oh slow motion inspection is drivin' me insane
|
In steel next to Dot Hook -- oh we may look the same--
|
Shoulder to shoulder sweatin' 110 degrees
|
But I will never faint, I will never faint
|
They laugh and they expect me to faint but I will never faint
|
I refuse to lose, I refuse to fall down
|
Because you see it's the monotony that's got to me
|
Every afternoon like the last one
|
Every afternoon like a rerun next to Dot Hook
|
And yeah we look the same
|
Both pumpin' steel, both sweatin'
|
But you know she got nothin' to hide
|
And I got something to hide here called desire
|
I got something to hide here called desire
|
And I will get out of here--
|
You know the fiery potion is just about to come
|
In my nose is the taste of sugar
|
And I got nothin' to hide here save desire
|
And I'm gonna go, I'm gonna get out of here
|
I'm gonna get out of here, I'm gonna get on that train,
|
I'm gonna go on that train and go to New York City
|
I'm gonna be somebody, I'm gonna get on that train, go to New York City,
|
I'm gonna be so bad I'm gonna be a big star and I will never return,
|
Never return, no, never return, to burn out in this piss factory
|
And I will travel light.
|
Oh, watch me now.
|
|
-----------------
|
Piss Factory
|
| Patti Smith |
