Lyrics

Open your eyes, time to wake up Shit, shower, brush your teeth, drain your cup Wolf down a bowl of Ready-Brek Fasten a tie around your neck All over the city we arise, arise For a job we despise, despise, despise I don't want to go into work this morning I don't think I can deal with the wrath of the general public And I don't have the heart to explain to another poor soul Why it is their Disability Living Allowance will be stopping shortly Busfulls of meat slumped in our seats Staring at phone screens and our own feet Shuffling off at the business park Let's linger awhile in the smoking bubble From every direction we arrive. arrive With a swipe of the fob, the fob, the fob, the fob I don't want to go back to that seething viper's nest I can't listen anymore to the bleating of the terminally depressed Or the stream of opinions from the creep in the office next to mine I dream of bashing his skull into a Brainy pulp with a Sellotape dispenser In the staff room, lost in a daze Shovelling crisps into my face After an unspeakably awful Call with a grieving mother In Wetherspoons on the fruit-machines Sinking my umpteenth Peroni Cackling like a hyena At the nasty jokes of my colleagues None of whom I can stand In my bed, I can hear the strangled voices Of all the people I've failed, I've failed, I've failed I don't want to go into work this morning I just want to lie here and play the new Call of Duty I finally gathered the courage to ring in sick I'm not coming into work today I'm really ill Not coming into work today Or for that matter any other day I'm sick to my soul I refuse to do this dirty work anymore I refuse, refuse, refuse, refuse Refuse, refuse, refuse
Writer(s): Richard Michael Dawson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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