| Every morning the alarm bells
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| Pierce my drums and then I smell that smell
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| In this bed so nice and warm
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| But I know the room I’m in’s so cold
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| Ignore the time for just five minutes more
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| Coz my brains not ticking over for sure
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| Why can’t I just wake in my own time
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| Why can’t I just lay in this time
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| The clouds are pissing acid rain
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| And the air I breath, my lungs decay
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| Mindless zombies walk down the street
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| Why? |
| All we need to do is eat
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| Nine to five, five days a week
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| And the cars are clogging up the streets
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| Depression and boredom sets in my head
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| Why did I bother getting out of bed?
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| This isn’t life, this is called slavery
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| No matter how you dress it up
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| Subject to work, back pains and agony
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| Are we really better off?
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| Every night I’d lay awake
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| Worrying about the mistakes I made
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| Nightmares of the day ahead
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| Another day of ass kissing that I can’t take
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| So I shoved it, left them in shit
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| It sure felt good just for a bit
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| But now my bank account is dry
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| And begging for the day I get another try
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| I hate work, work hates me |