My nights are my days and here I stay
in this Goddamned factory
It’s raining outside but I can’t tell
Pounding and thumping the beat in my cell
They are my friends. With others, I cannot speak
Counting the hours that seem like weeks
Just a job? Hardly, no
Although it began that way…
I’m finding strange comfort
among the noise all alone
in a city-sized hive I am just another drone
The Goddamned factory curses my existence
I don’t like the looks of his mustache
better keep my distance
There’s a man over there wishing he’d been a better father
There’s a woman in her thirties coughing up dust to keep her home
Industry claims another clone for one of their own
Now is my time to decide…
To win back my life, or have I already died?
Just along for the ride and this one doesn’t have a lap bar
and for what?
To supply the world with parts, supplies, tools?
The week of 9/16 – 9/20/02