The Next Day We Get Paid

Money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money,
Money makes no sense.
Fluency in currency, the very thing that’s hurting me-
A dialect I haven’t mastered yet.
I’ve been working so long, so long for someone else.
I’ve been thinking it’s about time I be working for myself.
We sweat, and slave, and sell, and trade
Our lives away, our lives to pay
The rent, the car, the food, the bar, the rainy days
Till the next day we get paid.
The hustle and the bustle is a giant jigsaw puzzle
And I can’t find a corner anywhere.
Maybe all I need is just a little puzzle piece,
Enough to get me on my feet, and some to spare.
I’ve been working so long, so long for someone else.
I’ve been thinking it’s about time I be working for myself.
We sweat, and slave, and sell, and trade
Our lives away, our lives to pay
The rent, the car, the food, the bar, the rainy days
Till the next day we get paid.
When I composite the deposits that I’ve made, and what I’ve saved,
it ain’t much.
I’m sick of being, sick of wanting more, and sick of starting from the bottom
up.
We sweat, and slave, and sell, and trade
Our lives away, our lives to pay
The rent, the car, the food, the bar, the rainy days.
It drains away.
We sweat, and slave, and sell, and trade
Our lives away, our lives to pay
The rent, the car, the food, the bar, the rainy days.
Till the next day we get paid.