life costs a hundred dollars a day
over 40 hours a week and you still cant make ends meet
in our lives you have to work at least eight days a week
so that you can pay for the 32 subscriptions that you don't need

one day to pay your phone bill
one day to pay for the window you watch your experiences through
one day to plug your things into your plugs
and a couple more days to spend enough on your drugs
two weeks to pay for your living space
one week to rent your car and drive it to the place
a day for your water and for your literal shit
and a third of your time given to the government

i dont have any friends because the cost of having them
would mean that i have to work another day again

its financially responsible to skip dinner four plus times a week
consume cheap caffiene while you stream instead of going to sleep
perpetually empty searching for something satisfying to eat
filling black holes with tadpoles, driving my plane down the street

you cant leave i don't accept your two weeks
you have to give me your time or you're stealing from me
how can you do this why can't you see
that you're much better off when you make me my money
it would really fuck me up if you had your own plans
if you did your own shit because you totally can't
in fact it's really selfish that you'd do this now to me man
what about me, and my products, and my dick in my hands?

i own your time
accepting your hourly rate has been a silent agreement to a lifetime of servitude
i'll take what's mine
i won't allow this treachery and betrayal the opportunity to reveal my own insecurities

my bobber floats round and round
i knock another cold one down
my boat floats with the sea
i own a company

overindulging spending money just to feel some relief
still refusing and choosing to believe its more than temporary
we're all so empty inside and we act like we don't know why
a result of dead dreams