It's 9:30 on a Friday night
And I'm just getting off from work
Another project gone on too long
With the due date pressing sharply against my spine
Driving home I brood about my pathetic life
That is what little of it I still own
Again I've prostituted my life for overtime
As if that's any compensation for the plans I had to miss
Left toiling away in the salt mines
Just to get the job done
Have I sold my soul to the company?
Sold out to higher education,
For a better job, a better lifestyle?
While I feel like I'm running on a treadmill
Chasing after a carrot on a stick
Copyright 1995, Will A. Sanborn - was1@shore.net