The Boss

Turin Brakes

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