So you know that sinking feeling
When you know shit is going down
And there’s nowhere you can hide
When the storm hits this town
Forget the Blue Monday misnomer
Call it Pink Slip day instead
I’m sure that you’ll concur
That I should’ve spent today in bed
I’ve worked my fingers to the bone
Dug a grave that’s six feet deep
My shot at freedom blown
Oh I wish I’d stayed asleep
Their weapons at the ready
The soldiers stand behind
Their trigger fingers steady
Their manners quite refined
Some will fire bullets
Some will fire blanks
Some will call it quits
But it still smells pretty rank
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