Dreading Work

Yeah I wake up each morning,

hear my clock beeping, hear the birds outside.

Yeah I hear them, they’re singing.

“Get up, you gotta get going.” “Get up, you gotta get moving.”

But I’m tired, don’t wanna do this again.

But the bills, they don’t pay themselves.

So I get my breakfast ready, a bowl of flakes will do.

Head out with no rush, not one ounce of urgency.

Hoping I get a call,

“Hey, stay home, there’s been an emergency.”

But no luck, no call.

All is fine, except for my mind.

It’s not what I want, it’s not what I need.

This job gets nothing from me except all of my energy.

No passion, not a single ounce.

Gotta change course and be like a ball and bounce.

But what next, if not this?

A consuming thought, dismissed.

When I arrive it’s game on.

Change my mask and freedom’s gone.

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