Commerce

Cold
 Shackled to
 The bottom
 Of the bottle
 Of the socio economic slavery
 That rules
 And runs my life
 Combust
 Let smoke fill my lungs
 Taught lies
 Work to ruin
 Infected with poverty
 Left in the gutter
 Over worked
 Under paid
 From a system meant to fail us
 Nothing left
 But to hang our hopes out to try
 Hell comes home
 From the time clock to the death bed
 When death grips your hands
 And kisses them goodbye
 Remember
 None of your work days mattered
 A lifetime spent tonguing
 The asshole of all your superiors
 Nothing is real
 But the inevitability of your cold fucking death
 And your heart being ripped from your chest
 Placed into the cavity of another worker bee
 Another fucking wage slave
 Paycheck to paycheck
 Your essence is dead but slavery is forever