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