Breakers

Rub Sticks, rub sticks for a living.
Rough hands, jobs lost, we'll deliver.
Three sails to the wind then we'll shiver.
We are waiting.
Now a judge can pull you out, attorney staring blankly inside out.
Called up, we're simply losing sight.
The kind of thing that keeps you up at night.
But we're all getting bored and have fallen in to the well.
Tossed down as we sit in the dark and a coin tossed down for the good of our health.
Rub Sticks, rub sticks for a living.
Rough hands, jobs lost, we'll deliver.
Three sails to the wind then we'll shiver.
We are waiting.
Round two,
with faces bearing down.
Is this the thing your people were talking about?
Round three,
in a momentary fight.
The common theme that keeps you up at night.
But we're all getting bored and have fallen in to the well.
Tossed down as we sit in the dark and a coin tossed down for the good of our health.
Rub Sticks, rub sticks for a living.
Rough hands, jobs lost, we'll deliver.
Three sails to the wind then we'll shiver.
We are waiting.
Rub Sticks, rub sticks for a living.
Rough hands, jobs lost, we'll deliver.
Three sails to the wind then we'll shiver.
A classic compilation, an age old combination.
A budget alteration.
A classic compilation, an age old celebration.
A budget alteration.
Breakers, softly spoken, hit the bottom and applied it to us.
Rub Sticks, rub sticks for a living.
Rough hands, jobs lost, we'll deliver.
Three sails to the wind then we'll shiver.
We are waiting.
Rub Sticks, rub sticks for a living.
Rough hands, jobs lost, we'll deliver.
Three sails to the wind then we'll shiver.
We are waiting.



Credits
Writer(s): William Raybould
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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