The businessmen got a job to do
The Eastenworld is waiting too.

They're sittin' on a bloodstone calling you a beggar,
Waitin' for another deal in open cars.
The presence of the men gives a bad vibration,
They're countin' dollar bills, and they're workin' on
The final countdown
Countdown

I'm sitting all around and I'm waitin' for the lyrics
they gotta be cool, botta satisfy the critics.
"Sign of warning all across the edges"
maybe too pathetic ... and my pencil scratches,

Meanwhile X [bad word] #39; from Miami
Another perfect deal was made in open cars.
I don't care 'cos I'm much too busy,
I have to write my lyrics
And I'm waiting for the final countdown, Countdown.

It's jut a matter of time
We're only waitin' for the end of the world
And we got nothing to lose
We're only servants of the monsters we curse.
It's just a matter of time
We can be sure we'll be doin' our worst.
And we're waiting for the countdown.

We're sittin' all around and we drink our lage,
Thanks to God we got no embargo.
What is left to do when you're looking for pleasure,
Somehow we gottta lose the pressure.

We're sittin' on a blood stone, worker, boss and beggar.
I don't give a [bad word] 
I want my open car.
God has tourned to money, Jesus is a Liqueur
I'd rather get my record done and party for the final,
COUNTDOWN, COUNTDOWN.