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lyrics

Another forty hour work week down
And I can’t make it out some how
Everything goes black
And I swear I’m a never coming back
And I’ve scraped, and I’ve bled and I’m running myself thin
Artist sentenced as a working stiff, of what a waste and what a sin
If that’s what It takes to chase a dream I say so fucking be
(they say, no way, I don’t care what it fucking pays, so fucking be)
Morphine to make it through the day
It’s all I can do
What do you want me to say?
To kill the pain
I’ve found there’s no better way than
And I’m running and I’m running, ticking, tick’n out of time
And I’m working really hard, really hard just to die
Now I know that’s the one way that I’ll be free, from this sadistic routine
We’re all dead and we just don’t know it
I’m under lock and key, you know the state they keep tabs on me
Death march down Dickerson Road, thirty-five bucks in the hands of control
I am a bird, I’m a bird that sings
I am a bird that sings behind the bars of a cage

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