Richard Dawson Civil Servant
Open your eyes, time to wake up
Shit, shower, brush your teeth, drain your cup
Puffed out a bowl of Ready-Brek
Fasten a tie around your neck
All over the city we arise, arise
For a job we despise, despise, despise
I don't want to go into work this morning
I don't think I can deal with the wrath of the general public
And I don't have the heart to explain to another poor soul
Why it is their disability repair allowance will be stopping shortly
Busfuls of meat slumped in our seats
Staring at full screens and our feet
Shuffling off at the business park
Let's linger a while in Spokane [?]
From every direction we arrive. Arrive
With a swipe of the fob, the fob, the fob, the fob
I don't want to go back to that seething [?]
I can't listen anymore to the bleating of the terminally depressed
Or the stream of opinions from the creep in the office next to mine
I dream of bashing his skull into a brainy pulp with a cellotape dispenser
In the staff room, lost in a daze
Shoveling crisps into my face
After an unspeakably awful
Quarrel with a grieving mother
In where the spoons are milled through machines
Sinking my umpteenth [?]
Cackling like a hyena
At the nasty jokes of my colleagues
None of whom I can stand
In my blood I can hear the strangled voices
Of all the people I've failed, I've failed, I've failed
I don't want to go into work this morning
I just want to lie here and play the new Call of Duty
I finally gathered the courage to ring in sick
I'm not coming into work today
I'm really ill
Not coming into work today
I'll [?] any other day
I'm sick to my soul
I refuse to do this dirty work anymore
I refuse, refuse, refuse, refuse
Refuse, refuse, refuse
