Um Wassersport geht es leider nicht in dem Song, auch wenn die Protagonistin ins Klo gesteckt werden soll – auf deutsch würde es deshalb wohl eher „Scheißfabrik“ heißen…es gibt aber auch noch „Pissing in a river“ von Patty Smith – hier das ganze Album mit den beiden Songs – und jede Menge Coverversionen!
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
Had to earn my dough, had to earn my doughBut no you gotta, 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 & shoutOh 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 down 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 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, and the way they smell, and here I gotta be up here
You know I got to 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 the inspeed, oh the 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 and 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 and I’m gonna get on that train
Go to New York City, I’m gonna be so big
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.
