[LEAD] Courtesy was never standard issue, mine went missing down below. Between the gauges and the gearboxes, I developed quite a flow. [LOW] Well, shit. [LEAD] Every valve became an asshole, every fitting had a plan. When the bastard wrench went flying— [DEEP] Fucking catch it if you can. [PRE-CHORUS] [LEAD] I've got specialized expressions that would blister fresh white paint. One good "son of a bitch" can fix what patience clearly fucking ain't. [CHORUS] [LEAD] That's a sailor's tongue, factory filter long since gone. Hell and damn are punctuation, fuck just helps the sentence along. [LOW] Highly descriptive. [DEEP] Poorly censored. [LEAD] And occasionally overdone. There's a whole damn lower deck loaded in this sailor's tongue. [VERSE 2] [LEAD] I can hear a bearing bitching three compartments down the line. Tell a pump, "Quit fucking whining," then persuade it back in time. [LOW] Professional. [LEAD] I've called machinery some things that aren't printed in the book. When somebody asks what happened— [DEEP MALE] Don't give me that fucking look. [BREAK — MECHANICAL GROOVE] [LEAD] These days I've gained refinement. I can almost hold it back. Then some dumb shit tests my patience and the filter starts to crack. [LOW] There it goes. [LEAD] One eyebrow gives the briefing, one smirk delivers hell. Before my mouth says anything— [DEEP MALE] Oh, fuck. They already can tell. [BUILD] [LEAD] I don't throw shit for attention. I don't cuss to play a part. It's an occupational language with impeccable fucking heart. [FINAL LIFT] [LEAD] Call it colorful communication, call it inappropriate fun. Call it thirty years of knowing when the bullshit has begun. [LOW FEMALE] Incoming. [DEEP MALE] Too damn late. [LEAD] If you're wondering what I'm thinking, better buckle up, hon— [Beat drops] You're about to get the uncensored sailor's tongue. [OUTRO] [LEAD FEMALE] Too much? [DEEP MALE] Not even fucking close. [LEAD FEMALE] I'm just getting warmed up.
