fauxcroft

Work for the system 

Work for the man

Work to ensure

That you meet the demands

Of a life of routine

Mundane and so bleak

Work for the pay

At the end of the week.

Bleed yourself dry

Give your pound of flesh

Give of yourself

Your very best

Yet you know no

Appreciation is coming your way

They can do what they like

Because your being paid.

Wearing a uniform 

Wearing a suit

Still a slave to the system

Doing what you need to do

To maintain a lifestyle 

To pay bills and feed the kids

Endless and hopeless

No escape from it

There are other things that

You would rather do

Spending more time with family

This is the truth

But you can’t because they got

A hold over you

And a belief that doing 

what it is that you do

Is vital and important 

It’s an illusion that you

Convince yourself of

To get through this life

And gives you the belief

What your doing is right.