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alarm clock rings, i crawl out of bed. i`m not looking forward to what lies ahead. all day i`m like a zombie, the working dead. today`s gonna be a boring day. i know it. i`m not interested in what i`m doing. i show it. i wish that i could walk away. you know? we`re all the same. would happiness be worth the wait? would all the mondays be worth the pain? some say they`ll see. i don`t agree. nose to grindstone. everyday i walk to work and say, i wish that i could go somewhere where time`s not despised, clocked in and put in line, but "that`s the way it goes." spending our years pinned as slaves. tired and under-paid, while no one ever knows what life`s about. work to survive until we`re 65 and then it`s time to die. nose to grindstone. everyday i walk to work and say, "i wish that i could go." working so hard just to survive, until we`re 65 and then it`s time to cry with the rest of them. die with the best of them. we lie to ourselves and think that life`s exciting. we cry... we die. we lie... we die without ever knowing what we could have done with ourselves.

alarm clock rings, i crawl out of bed. i`m not looking forward to what lies ahead. all day i`m like a zombie, the working dead. today`s gonna be a boring day. i know it. i`m not interested in what i`m doing. i show it. i wish that i could walk away. you know? we`re all the same. would happiness be worth the wait? would all the mondays be worth the pain? some say they`ll see. i don`t agree. nose to grindstone. everyday i walk to work and say, i wish that i could go somewhere where time`s not despised, clocked in and put in line, but "that`s the way it goes." spending our years pinned as slaves. tired and under-paid, while no one ever knows what life`s about. work to survive until we`re 65 and then it`s time to die. nose to grindstone. everyday i walk to work and say, "i wish that i could go." working so hard just to survive, until we`re 65 and then it`s time to cry with the rest of them. die with the best of them. we lie to ourselves and think that life`s exciting. we cry... we die. we lie... we die without ever knowing what we could have done with ourselves.

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