Work

They spend their money in the bars along the strip
On their way home from their personal hell
That they hate with all their passion
And their smiles are all so forced as they tell themselves
That they’re having a great time each night
And so they wake up with their heads just pounding
And trudge back to the place they hate and fear
They need the money made but just don’t
Want to make it there
It’s a brutal truth
No matter where you go
That there are millions of people
Who simply hate the jobs they have
But if you ask them what they’d rather do
They look at you so blankly
They’re afraid of change
Whatever change may mean
And life goes on and on and on
And soon enough they just can’t leave
They’re too old to change to something new
And they’re afraid of all the younger ones
Who will do their jobs
For a smaller pile of cash
So you will see them in the pubs and bars
Along the strip that leads them home
To the two and a half children
And the wife who knows the score
It is an awful thing
It is the human condition
For millions of people
Who spend their lives in places that they hate