almost dead
full-time life
my nine to five is from eight to six,
working so hard but i can't quit,
the benifit's too good an early death,
the only true rest i'll ever get,
driving home is hard driving there is worse,
kill all my time it's all it's worth,
hunched over back with a hunch this isn't right,
but i forget how to think by the end of each nite,
caffine i.v. to keep me charged,
to sneak a stiff drink the urge getting hard,
the job are jobs by design for two,
rationalize i'm lucky a job to go to,
one off my plate three more come in,
i sit and stare where do i begin,
so busy i'm numb forget the work i just did,
never as a kid did i expect this,
fat cows they're slaughtered most marry set free,
for me not an option but simple a dream,
others they struggle but i'm worse cause i try,
each morning resurrected 'til one day i'll just die,
the pay isn't great the ambiance is worth shit,
but keeps me fed my mouth full of cigarettes,
the american dream part of the machine,
the monthly payments i owe they now control me,
the stress it binds building up on my bones,
i kill myself at work so i won't kill myself at home,
i'm a workaholic by week an alcoholic by end,
a flaw that is shared by so many of my friends.
posted by fillshe @ 8:53 PM
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