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9 to 5, toil and strife,
Blood, sweat, and tears
But we gon’ be alright.
Monday to Friday is an ongoing cycle
Of consistency, effort, and might.
It will be worth it in the end,
We tell ourselves with no end in sight.
Productivity is the never-ending coach that drives us mad.
Using us for all we have till there is nothing left.
We give our best yet expect so little,
We have been truly humbled.
We fight the fatigue that reminds us of ourselves,
But give care to the work that will forget us tomorrow.
We grow and excel climbing the endless ladder,
Yet shrink and minimise into a timid and presentable package.
But we gon’ be alright,
For the money will prevail.
Forever chasing after it,
Thinking we’re right on it’s tail.
We have lost our minds
But found our rhythm in the workplace.
Switching code to match the beat
While wearing a mask to hide our face.
We work to save for a rainy day,
But have no time to spend in the sun that has no cost.
Trapped in cages as the rays pierce through the heat-infested box,
Giving us hopes of freedom.
What are we fighting for?
To live, to survive or to die.
Pick your poison
As we drink our sorrows away.
Wishing for a better tomorrow
Yet selling ourselves today.
In the hustle and bustle of the 9to5, it is easy to become lost in the rat race. Never lose yourself!
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