Lyrics

Words are flying at me at the speed of sound But the machines are too loud for me to hear He's trying hard to demonstrate something What it is isn't totally clear Six months and it's six A.M., I've got a lot of things to ask myself Is it really worth the minimum wage To risk my sanity and health? It's history It's inevitability Cultivating my despair I'm not going anywhere Working at the cannery stacking tin cans Why is anybody here? What are the choices? Who makes the questions? Can you define a career? The working class aren't asking any questions Who would have the answers to supply The myth of freedom is the crux of the problem It defines the existential lie It's history It's inevitability Cultivating my despair I'm not going anywhere It's history It's inevitability Cultivating my despair I'm not going anywhere