Good morning, mundane occupation
I got bags full of garbage
To be divvied out to the bureaucrats
With stony faces and cotton eyes
It's the midday highlight of wretched lives
Hidden from view and impossible to find
'Cause it's an eyesore
A reason for sullen desperation
And what it's doing to these people
And what it does is all the same
And now it's all but taking away
My waning faith in humans
We'd be making a better resource
Sleeping six feet in the ground
Cheap suited desperados form into lines
As I pass by and maybe say hello
But in the spirit of being a peasant
I get the evil eyes that are buckling down
For the graveyard shift tonight
They never get it right
They get it wrong
With their roll call, they sign in
There's no signs of life
But no one cares
No one's supposed to care anyway
Soggy shoes with busted seams
I got the weight of twenty nickels
Weighing down my jeans
With the stench of last night's whiskey
I'm the observant delivery boy