Labour all day to make another man's dime.
I find myself on the wrong side o' this paradigm.
Turn on the television, distract me from my career.
There's a newsman speaking, I'm sorry I didn't hear.
There's a politician speaking, I'm sorry, it's not very clear.
There's an army of robots marching, excuse me while I blankly stare.
let me lose my mind to the screen.
jingle your keys before me.
I am bereft of independent thought,
what our ancestors predicted this was not.
For those on top, this is what they want,
an army of robots bereft of thought.
Because the drudgery of life can be a festival of mediocraty