Super Powers Enable Me To Blend In With Machinery

It's all wrinkled elbow shirts and poker faces on this bus
Back to a niche, dug just like a ditch in this city's weathered crust
But there's something about the city's gray that seems to say all there is to say
Riddled with regiment, vindictive intent, faking loyalty and getting paid

Fuck 'em all
Fuck 'em all
Fuck 'em all
Fuck 'em all

She keeps the Variety section and then gives the rest to me
She says she remembers when buses were nicer, "no dignity in plastic seats"
But there's something about the way she said, "the only good boss is one that's dead"
Broad shoulders giggled all over the bus and work ethics crumbled into "them and us"

Fuck 'em all
Fuck 'em all
Fuck 'em all
Fuck 'em all

And all these spectres of the workplace
Turned from effigy back to reality
And yeah, I wish it was that simple
To think a belly laugh is really all we need

But it's the slow decay of the day-to-day
That says take your paycheck
Accept your place and fade away
But there was dignity in plastic seats that day