Anti-Work Song

[Chorus: Don Quixote]
Over 40 hours a week for the rest of my life
I’ll be saying “Fuck this job” til I’m dead from the grind
They sell American dreams so we can be corporate slaves
A wealth of perishing fiends, repeatedly more replace
Working til exhaustion gaining nothing at all
Looking back at the years you sold completely crushed from the loss
Grieving in reflection the life that you could’ve lived
Which if you could do again becomes time that you wouldn’t give

[Verse 1: Don Quixote]
I bleed for their company, they reap the profits
On knees for my suffering, they eating off it
The landlord’s at my door and knockin’ for rent
I sold you my life, all I’ve gotten I spent
Check to check, struggling, thoughts in my head
Can’t afford therapy so pot is my friend
Fuck all these handouts now hand me your wallet
I don’t make enough for a family or cottage
You fed on my youth as you fed me a lie
The factory’s a furnace, you left me to fry
And you owe for what you have taken from us
And we can still raise up our guns, praise to the sun
From days in a rut we gestate in the gut
Of the beast that desecrates all you love
Wrench in the cogs, clear out the stench of the smog
Now is the time for revenge for the slog

[Chorus: Don Quixote]
Over 40 hours a week for the rest of my life
I’ll be saying “Fuck this job” til I’m dead from the grind
They sell American dreams so we can be corporate slaves
A wealth of perishing fiends, repeatedly more replace
Working til exhaustion gaining nothing at all
Looking back at the years you sold completely crushed from the loss
Grieving in reflection the life that you could’ve lived
Which if you could do again becomes time that you wouldn’t give

[Verse 2: Don Quixote]
We’re just the meat that is meant for the grinder
Hustle tunnel vision let up the blinders
Pick off the scabs circumventing the strikers
Least til the pigs come and send you to Rikers
I ain’t depressed it’s suppressed revolution
All of this stress is commencing a movement
I wish the best in suggesting a union
But they have addresses and flesh of a human
Ringing the bell like bring out your dead
At a CEO’s house while you sling out some lead
Label me lazy, famous last words
I’m still a crack shot to aimless bastards
Treating your net worth like it’s a high score
As your workers starve is a crime you should die for
You leaches don’t deserve the sweat of my brow
You’ll see it when we work some lead in your crowns

[Chorus: Don Quixote]
Over 40 hours a week for the rest of my life
I’ll be saying “Fuck this job” til I’m dead from the grind
They sell American dreams so we can be corporate slaves
A wealth of perishing fiends, repeatedly more replace
Working til exhaustion gaining nothing at all
Looking back at the years you sold completely crushed from the loss
Grieving in reflection the life that you could’ve lived
Which if you could do again becomes time that you wouldn’t give

[Verse 3: Don Quixote]
I got no delusions of workers united
Or hopes of inclusion with serpents in hiding
I want no confusion dispersing my stylings
I am a reclusive insurgent and nihilist
‘Cause I’ve seen depravity on full display
Accepted so casually with no complaint
It shattered naivety in the idea
That I could find remedies for the minds here
Stuck in inherited bigotry still
Hearts frozen over with wintery chill
Straight to their God I’m delivering shills
Since working with them makes me physically ill
I punch in and stomach the shit that they spew
Begrudging in judgement and with a great view
Of the reality allies are sparse
If liberation is the drive in your heart

[Outro: TRCD & Brogodzilla]
This imbecile Don Quixote has the audacity to call lowly peasant harlots and filthy prostitutes, fair maidens and worthy princesses!
What a miserable wretch!
He feels these noble officers to be pawns of a conspiracy that are out to get him as well?!
Agreed darling
He gets what he deserves