You better pretend that you're fine.
You better pretend that you're able
To March your ass right down that line.
Cause your life is in production.
Your life needs to be universalised
The same down to every single button.
Nothing is ever yours to decide.
Two and a half children,
That you can barely feed but that's fine.
You are working for someone’s pockets,
Unpaid overtime on that nine to five.
Health insurance that doesn't pay out.
Your entire life is build to decline.
Your back will not keep on carrying you.
Your heart won't make it out alive.
But there is no room for slowing down,
No room for the outliers.
It's a copy and paste way of living,
To keep up until the day you die.
So pop a pill to hide you're disabled.
If they ask how you are, lie.
Tell them you have never been better.
Tell them you have nothing to hide.
And if you see someone visibly struggling,
Chose the words meant best to deride.
Just to make yourself feel better
Than those who can't hide.
Tell them you can see that they are faking.
Tell them that you know they lie.
Tell them they cost too much money.
Tell them it's better if they died.
It's best to pretend life isn't broken,
If you can hide it being snide.
If you don't think too much about your life,
The things you needed, it denied.
We are all the same cog in the machine.
Yours isn't more important. They lied.
Your productivity doesn't matter.
Only the bottom line.
