Text: Turin Brakes. Other. The Boss.

Saturday night and where am I going
I?m going to work inside a kitchen
I?ll be making you mush and cleaning deep fat fryers
Here he comes now the king of irony

Whose good to you
I am I am the boss
Whose good to you
I am I am the boss of the century

Loving a good steak or feeling fancy
Hoping around like the pig that you are
I?m stuck to this sink like a twisted butterfly
A good view from the window but I ain?t got no wings

Whose good to you
I am I am the boss
Whose good to you
I am I am the boss of the century

Whose good to you
I am I am the boss
Whose good to you
I am I am the boss of the century

Whose good to you
Whose good to you yeah
Whose good to you
Whose good to you yeah