My job is a job, it's a shitty ass time.
Port to port, we're working all the time.
We haven't had fun, on this fuckin Med run.
We boat boys always bustin our buns
We're led by Rob Z, sounds a little crazy.
We're always at sea and I never see my family
The boat is breakin, our sleep they're takin
walkin round the ship watchin all the new guys shakin.
While you're on the job workin nine to five
Boat boys are in hell, just tryin to stay alive
NO SLEEP TILL...
Another spill, another drill
another bilge just got filled.
Another fire, another liar
another sleepless night.
Our skipper is crazy, he hates the sight of dust.
He's got all the blue shirts scraping up rust.
Goin round the med
getting fucked around the clock
scrubbing bilges, and cleaning all watch
Field day trash makin big ole piles,
getting screwed along the way, cause it makes the captain smile.
Rags on the floor and shit on the door,
MPA's in control cause he's getting his ass tore.
We got a reactor in the middle
and cooks in the rack
we got coners in the front
and nukes in the back
Why ya'll waste my time
NO SLEEP TILL...
NO...SLEEP...TILL BOB'S GONE!
NO...SLEEP...TILL BOB'S GONE!
Aint seen the rack since started this run
MPA get on the mike my man
comin from Chicago, USA
The call him Mister Peter, but he's the MPA
Like a sponge to a greenie, and a greenie to a sponge
I'm down in the bilges wiping up mung.
Sponges, kemwipes, and Simple Green,
after four hours, it still aint clean.
Come on nubs, get out of my way
I'm painting the bilges, again with gray
Waking up, before I get to sleep,
cause I'm working inHell eight days a week
NO SLEEP TILL...