The Boss

In this game,
There are no winners.
You bust your ass
Through the good and the bad,
The rich and poor,
To have one hell of a story
To tell people with
One hell of a story themselves.
As, Bs, Cs, the Ds and Fs
Are no good at all.
Going to class,
Pretending to care,
Doing your work.
And at the end of
That long parage?
A reward?
No, the rat race.
Losing your identity,
Your name.
You spend all those years
Doing your best,
Stressing out and putting up,
For what?
For someone to tell you
You're not good enough.

I don't care to
Learn your name.
I'm the boss,
The high king.
You are the servant,
A lowly peasant.
Here's your number,
Your new name.
I speak for you,
I think for you.
If you're not miserable
The job's not worth keeping.
I feed your family
And buy your sanity.
You owe me your soul.
I gave you that house,
I gave you that car,
And I can take it back.
You live for me.
You were educated for me.
Wake for me, sleep for me,
Eat for me, and, if I'm really good,
You fuck for me.
Breeding future drones
Of the workforce
Who will look at my drone
The way you look at me.
You can be replaced.
Machines are advancing.
They don't eat or get paid,
Don't get sick or pregnant,
They don't take five minutes
For a shit after lunch.
I'll keep you, for now,
But don't get unruley.
I rule by threats
That I can make real.

Welcome to your reward
For hard work, stress,
And a job well done.

Copyright 2002