You have to drag yourself
Just to keep the dosh coming
To keep kinfolk from starving
Despite all these heavy lifting

You enter that poisonous atelier
Inside a cubicle, sit on your chair
Play staring games with computer screen
Drink a juice of coffee bean

That place, a modern day slavery ring
Where your ego is bruised and badly beaten
They own you 'cause they give you payslips
But even with that you know it ain't worth it

But that place isn't at fault
It's those who own the vault
They keep to them what's inside
They won't share, they hide

Under a mask of kindness
They advertise false incentives
But they won't give what you deserve
'Cause it belongs in their pockets

They won't listen to your pleads
Neither tend to your needs
Silently blackmail you instead
And then there goes your thread

Your thread, closer to inch
Your patience about to ditch
You know you'll burst sooner or later
They'll regret it all, when with them, you're finally over