There’s an Spanish song about that: El vals del obrero (the worker’s waltz)

(Translated with Reverso. Sorry for the possible mistakes)

Proud to be (Proud to be)

Among the proletariat (Among the proletariat)

It’s hard to make ends meet

And have to sweat and sweat

To earn our bread

And this is my place, these are my people

We are workers, the preferred class

Therefore, proletarian brother, with pride

I sing you this song, we are the revolution

Yes, sir! , the revolution

Yes, sir! , Yes, sir! we are the revolution

Your enemy is the master

Yes, sir! , Yes, sir! we are the revolution

Long live the

I’m sick to death of leeches

Those who steal my dignity

My life is consumed by enduring this routine

Who drowns me more every day

Happy businessman, more calluses in my hands

My kidneys are going to burst

I don’t have a fucking buck, but I’m still paying in

To your welfare state

Up!

In this democracy, there is a lot of smart money to be made

Squeezing our social class

They don’t give a fuck if you have fourteen children

And grandma can’t be operated on

We are the workers, the basis of this game

In which he always loses the same pringao

A well thought out game, in which we are kept quiet

And they fuck you if you don’t want to play (Up!)