Скачать с ютуб Danny Diatribe - Compliments to the Chef (Official Music Video) Prod. DJ Cutterz. в хорошем качестве

Danny Diatribe - Compliments to the Chef (Official Music Video) Prod. DJ Cutterz.

Official video for Compliments to the Chef by Danny Diatribe and DJ Cutterz.. Get full release now @ https://dannydiatribe.bandcamp.com/al... Produced exclusively by DJ Cutterz Follow Danny Diatribe on Spotify https://tinyurl.com/ybnjz848 Follow on social media Instagram:   / dannydiatribe   Facebook   / dannydiatribemc   Twitter :   / dannydiatribe   Lyrics Burn marks on the hand from where the hot fat from the fryer split, The running of the kitchen is the running of a pirate ship, Just because the front of house is well presented, That aint reflected from the damned demented heads that sent it, Their work ain't pleasant so they're resenting the waiters tips, And spent their time surrounded by mountains of packs of butter sticks, They stand in crocs with no break straight for their 12 hour shifts, And wrap waterproof plasters round the cuts their sharpened knives have split, Avoid the weak link in the team, If you got time to lean that means that you got time to clean, The head chef roars like he was training soldiers and marines, To stop fatigue they snort up the cocaine with the caffeine, Slaving, aprons and ladle replacing chains and whips, You drop things that are hot ‘till you lose feeling in your fingertips, You dance around the staff and call before collision hits, Because that's kitchen shifts, personal space aint something that exists, Chorus, I love the feel of sharp steel through flesh, Blindness from the checks, got a menu timed to death, Though the heat and the madness we progress, And test our mental health as we accept and handle stress, A multiplex of culinary architects, Transforming meat and veg as masterpieces manifest, Take requests serve it fresh to the guest, And once they left, they shout compliments to the chef, Chefs meet social death, working at the awkward times, Fun they like but their Saturdays turning into Monday nights, Who's up for pints except other chefs hitting student nights, Monday night boshing lines, Tuesday, all day, washing whites, Wages are shite its the head chef getting the golden rate, So the difference in lower pay is catered for by stolen steaks, Days inside a kitchen don't mean that they're holding weight, Most are built like rakes, only tasting all day, holding plates, Spending all their cash in droves, Despite the discipline they chose they won't be arsed to cook at home, They unwind with a bottle of wine straight to the dome, Talking about chicken tasting better when its on the bone, The kitchens damned, convicts, pervs and fuckwits, That mastered presentation of their meat and lamb cutlets, A gang of ill-cullinary rough necks, that love checks, Season breast with nutmeg ‘till the sun sets, I love the feel of sharp steel through flesh, Blindness from the checks, got a menu timed to death Though the heat and the madness we progress, And test our mental health as we accept and handle stress, A multiplex of culinary architects, Transforming meat and veg as masterpieces manifest, Take requests serve it fresh to the guest, And once they left, they shout compliments to the chef, Subscribe. dannydiatribe.com