A Black Toppers Shift

As we work in the searing heat 
​​​​​​ The high tarmac temperature is melting our feet 
You’re forehead is dripping with large beads of sweat
You're here for your nine hours,the tonnage will be met
Face is getting redder,as the heat rises up

 Gives impressions of blood pressure,your face has that look
How much more,can one man take 
​​​​​​ Can’t wait for the weekend,you need a bloody break 
Till then,it feels like you’re working,as the day is long 
​​​​​​ You’re longing for knock off and your long journey home 
To be greeted by your family, as you walk through the door 
​​​​​​ To provide for these lovelies,is what you work for 
For nice trips out and holidays in the sun 
We work hard for our wonga,we love having fun 
​​​​​​ It’s not too bad money,we’re good at what we do 
​​​​​​ We are the boys on the black stuff,we are the been there and done that crew