fauxcroft

We work for a few quid

Persperation runs from our foreheads,

Blood pumps through our veins and heart

Like a runaway train at full steam,

We are tired and exhausted

Body aches as if beaten with clubs,

Some mornings I can barely rise

To many pains, hard to open my eyes,

I reach to turn off the alarm

Another day, another slog,

Another day we’ll ain’t that the charm,

Working long, working hard

Does my mind and soul harm,

Mindless groundhog moments

Pointless life of existence,

To weary for putting up resistance

Servile we are our own worst enemy

Will slaves to the system, of course we pay,

For surrendering life without much fight

In that darkness there is no light,

Why not try to exercise your mind

And reject, refuse, rebel once in a while,

Give the establishment the middle finger

We must learn not to be such fucking whingers,

And become revolutionary anarchists

Subverting systems now that’s the ticket.