Bomb the Music Industry!
Jobs Schmobs
At a desk in a room that's always too hot or cold
At a computer where you're starting to lose your soul
With a wage that they pay to keep you from ten to six
At 7:30, man you're starting to lose your shit, you're stuck all night
With a boss who's in love with nobody but herself
An army of washed-up musicians sit on her shelf
Patronizing, taking her problems out on you
While you do the work that she's too lazy to, do you like it now?
When the world, when the world gets half away from you
You can go half a world away
When the world, when the world gets half away from you
You can go half a world away
All you need is two weeks
Two weeks, two weeks
You can't leave or go to lunch, you have no health insurance
Two weeks vacation and you haven't been let off since
Suffer through the insufferably boring days
You show up early and your boss always shows up, "Later suckers," you'll say
And your friends with their brains say that you cannot go back
If you move on your music business degree is trashed
Soon we'll be on the road though and soon we'll be driving fast
So when your boss starts to cry, do your best not to laugh
When the world, when the world gets half away from you
You can go half a world away
When the world and your friends and your job and your ends and your whole damn life starts to get away from you
You can go half a world away
All you need is two weeks
Two weeks, two weeks
Two weeks, fuck the world