You see the same sights.
Ain’t one of them yours.
You look for the out.
It keeps you up nights
Dreaming of rich shores.
How the hell does a guy
Find success in this place?
Honest work’s obsolete
When rushing the rat race.
Praise is automatic
When you kiss ass enough.
The cheaters seem to win;
Their sincerity all bluff.
You ride the same route.
You spy the same eyes
Of anticipation.
Looking for the out
Hearing only lies
By automation
How the hell does a guy
Break the bonds of fiefdom?
Ain’t quality that counts,
It’s how cheap it gets done.
Our soul’s been put on sale,
Discounted away.
Tonight is like last night:
Tomorrow’s yesterday.
You ride the same route,
Read the same headline:
Wall Street declared God.
You look for the out.
They have covered life
With neon facade.
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