Letras:Playing With Matches. The Grind.

It's been three years lost to punching clocks and working fingers to cuticles. Patience tested under fluorescents inside a cubicle.
It's a nine to five grind.
It's a nine to five grind.
Lower your hopes and raise the bottom line. Earning a living but not feeling alive.
Full dental, memberships to a county clubs, they love me at the bank. Cigars rolled in third world nations; it's a shame that my date book's always blank. The wage can't compensate the time taken from me. I'm remunerated with a life I never wanted as a person I never wanted to be.
It's a fucking nine to five grind.
It's a nine to five grind.
So lower your hopes and raise the bottom line. Earning a living but not feeling alive.
Lower your hopes and raise the bottom line. Earning a living but not feeling alive.
Attention everyone, management here.We're going to need everyone to come in this weekend and work a little over time
Coffee mug, putt-putt on the office rug, yeah that's my day. And a window ledge who's just a little too friendly lately. All day I sit and make up lists of things I could have had but missed because of this career. I quit.
It's a nine to five grind.
Lower your hopes and raise the bottom line.
Earning a living but not feeling alive

(Thanks to Tara for these lyrics)