Then I think that I'm mistaken
believing that this is just the beginning
when the end is on the corner,
waiting for my numbers on the lottery

but if this was the lot for me
I'd take a moment,
to **** through the windows of
monotony

last chance to get out of there
before we head them off at the pass.

because we're running through the workings
when the works no longer exist
the foremen all retired
except for Septimus
he was fired for being ******,

we have no industry
we have coffee on every street,
a battalion of buckwheat
and
oat milk for christ's sake

there are no living people in the afterlife
and fit of fat
clever or a ****
you'll be dead when you get there
and
there'll be no flamin' oat milk.