My father wakes up everyday and goes to a job that he hates
And it hurts him
But in seven years he'll get his pension
My mother wakes up everyday and goes to a keyboard and types for twelve hours straight
And it hurts her a little physical but more in her soul
Because, 70% of people hate their jobs and 53% hate their boss
But everything's gonna be great and okay when you finally get that brand new sweater from Ross
Because its a slave wage that's exchanged for mere freedom
Freedom not to die alone and cold with nothing to hold
No boats or clothes
Or shoes or whatever
The Grim Reaper's there recites a poem
He said it's

"It's nice of you to finally show up, Frank. You didn't think that you were gonna make it did you? It's cold outside and you can sit in there naked and if your toes get to cold to hold you up, you won't cry no more, you won't cry no more. If your toes get to cold to hold you up, you won't cry no more, you won't cry."

But fuck waking up every day, going to a shitty job that I hate everyday, everyday and waking up in the morning and asking
"What is this?"
Now we're only living for the weekends, now fuck that
45 years give or take depending on how many beers I drank
Or drugs I've done
Or deaths I've faked
Or lives I've saved
Or wives I've named and then replaced, will I die?
Will I die without watching my life go by?
Will I die?
Will I die without watching my life go by?
A third of it's sleeping
And a third of it working at a place you hate being
And the other third
You better be happy