Working 9-5 struggling to feel alive, yet the pleasures of the weekend call to me.

My manager treats me well, lets me live in a glorified prison cell, 4 walls and a lack of sunshine to get me by.

Because the bottom line was worth my talents being bought on the bottom dollar so my boss can afford another Porsche.

I spend my days in a relentless haze looking at a life that I wish I had. Restless and lacking an emotional albi, my head holds me back because my heart knows I've tried to find the map to success one too many times.

What I do know to be true is that all my thoughts lead me back to you and what we'd do if we lost it all tomorrow.

Because everything we own is borrowed yet our time is owed to pay our debts and drown our sorrows in the latest fashion and technology credit can buy.

All of this a countless scheme living in a capitalistic regime where the boss makes a dollar and I wish I had a dime.

When does this cycle end, what I would give to have my livelihood extend, instead of running a rat race against my will.

Not to be instruspective here, but at this rate you're already dead my dear and the light leaving my eyes is not to far behind.

So, I take my 2 weeks vacation a year and pride myself on facing my fears because if my routine were to ever break I'm not sure what else I'd find.

Let's raise our glasses and make a toast, to the cubicles we live in the most. May a workaholic's love never find me.