Gun

If you find yourself standing
 At the end of your line
 Looking for a piece of something
 Maybe a piece of mind
 Fed up, lost, and run down
 Nowhere to hold on
 Tired of, take your place at the end son
 We'll get to you one by one
 No light ever shines
 Dead end tears that dry
 Maybe a waste of words and time
 Never a waste of life
 Every hour will be spent
 Filling a quota, just getting alonghandcuffs hurt worse
 When you've done nothing wrong
 No thanks to the treadmill
 No thanks to the grindstone
 There's plenty of dissent from
 These rungs below
 The clockwork of destruction
 Hanging low over our heads
 Always a smokestack cloud
 Or a slow-walking death
 No light ever shines
 Dead-end tears that dry
 Maybe a waste of words and time
 Never a waste of life
 No thanks to the treadmill
 No thanks to the grindstone
 There's plenty of dissent from
 These rungs below
 The clockwork of destruction
 Hanging low over our heads
 Always a smokestack cloud
 Or a slow-walking death
 No light ever shines
 Dead-end tears that dry
 Maybe a waste of words and time
 Never a waste of life
 Maybe a waste of words and time
 Never a waste of life