I’m certainly not living.
This time clock life,
I barely see the sun,
Ow, the night is cold,
Looking at faces I’ve grown to know,
Fragile and old, they move so slow.
No, I don’t want to be them,
It’s so indecent, this indecent hour.
The people-pleaser,
Living an old poor rundown life.
I heard this woman sing about her king,
He is Vice President of nothing,
This is such a weird flex.