(Return To) 9-5

I’m gonna go and go get my own
Steal everything until I feel my home
And I don’t really care what they say to me
Having no money is to truly be free
Cos you can’t find work and you ain’t got time
So you rock it to the rhythm and it’s a life of crime

Every day you wake up and complain that it’s insane
Then you wait for the train that’s the late again
All aboard, it’s the stress express
Waste the next eight hours banging your head on your fucking desk
Then you’re back in the traffic all alone
You’re on your way home another clone with an iPhone
Now it’s time for a fast food dinner
With every little bite you make your hair a little thinner
Spread out on your couch, you try to unwind
But every night you find it’s harder to switch off your mind
There’s gotta be more to life than running behind
Humankind weren’t designed for a pressure cooking daily grind

Found a place to practice where it didn’t cost a dime
But we fucked it up royal when they rolled us that time
And all that we know is the rider at the show
And I’m searching for our wealth that on no tree grow
Pack of cigarettes could cost a lung these days
But I’m hoping for the sickness that a lawsuit will pay

If you want a Paul Kelly power ballad son then fuck the meags
Sparking your glassware and darkening your cutlery
Scraping an empty sack you better take the henny back
I dropped my savings on this tour I’m strapped for petty cash
Spitting ain’t the way to catch a million, son
I’m ill, and still, I’m splitting bills with illegitimate funds, yeah
I work two shitty jobs to make the cash to build a better scene
Blazing trails on nothing but raw passion and amphetamines
Drop my first album way back when I was seventeen
These posers make more money in a week than I have ever seen
Twenty-one and broke, ain’t so easy being serene
Til’ I crank the fucking Bennies, turn it up and fucking light the green