I don't know about you,
but I'm getting tired.
Trouble where I work,
almost getting fired.

People walk all over me,
showing no respect.
I don't get paid as much as them,
so what do you expect.

My car makes noise when I drive,
I mean, ones that it shouldn't.
The mechanic said it was beyond him,
tried to fix it but he couldn't.

So I drive to work,
making lots of noise.
Where I'm underpaid,
and not one of the boys.

I get home late,
say hi to a bill.
Sit in my chair,
and everything is still.

Not that I really like it that way,
but because I can't help it.
Because of the bill that I greeted long before,
when I really should've paid it.

So as I sit in the dark,
fanning myself with paper.
Eating something that came to me,
from the refrigerator.

I think about a better life,
where I'm not alone.
Where I'm waited on hand and foot,
and have electricity in my home.

Then I stumble to my bedroom,
where I fall asleep.
And dream I got ten bucks,
for selling my heap.