Black Friday

[Verse 1]
We get up early
We come home tired
Our lives for hire
We're makin' money for someone else
I can't breathe like there's hands around my throat
I can't scream, this place is filled with ghosts
Everybody's lookin' for somethin'
We can't leave, or we're left with nothin'

[Chorus]
Clap your hands, do the dead man shuffle
Slouch our way into an early grave

[Verse 2]
Is it disappointment
Or mild annoyance?
A sense of contentment
Or fucking resentment?

[Chorus]
Move your feet to this dead end beat
Slouch our way into an early grave

[Post-Chorus]
Get out of bed
Get fucking dressed
Think of better ways
To keep busy

[Chorus]
Clap your hands, do the dead man shuffle
Killing ourselves for a living wage, okay

[Post-Chorus]
Get out of bed
(Get out of bed!)
Get fucking dressed
And get busy