Lletres: Scroobius Pip. Rat Race.
Awwwww shit, I'm back in the rat race again.
And what's worse, most of these fuckin' rats are my friends.
And worse still I've lost my map so I don't know where this shit ends.
Awwwww shit, I'm back in the rat race again.
As I wake up with the previous night still ringing in my fragile head
Trying to piece together any shitty thing I might've done or might've said
I drag my lifeless carcass to it's feet and out of bed and clock in to another day.
Another day within which I can look forward to the possibility that, maybe today will be the day that something interrupts the never ending list of mundane tasks that sit between me and the closing bracket of my drive home.
Maybe today'll be the day that something snaps as I think back and react to the distinct lack of impact in my shrink wrapped life.
Maybe today'll be the day that I'll tear down the foundations of my whole existence and start again,
knee deep in the rubble, rummaging, for something that I can use as a starting point.
Something to jump off of.
But then, the future ain't what it used to be.
And as the day's tasks reverberate around my dormant brain, I continue to greet another member of public with a perfect replica of what is known as a welcoming smile.
I switch off all unnecessary facets and glide through the day on cruise control remembering what life was like before this role.
And as I stare blankly from my till point I start to tap my feet to the discreet beat the general public secretes.
The footsteps
The breathing
That one baby screaming
The coughing and the heaving
Those unruly kids out thieving
But before long, my creative daydream is once again interrupted by the ever watching eyes of the management
See, like a child spinning in circles just to make himself dizzy, my only real requirement in this place is to make sure I look busy.
But I'm using that to my advantage, see.
'cause just as not every open eye is seeing, not every closed eye is sleeping.
So while they pay me for this paint by numbers shit
Every thought I have, I'm keeping.
And remember, the same shit can taste pretty different if they season it right
So if youre gonna sell out your beliefs, make sure your reasons are watertight.
And as the chief worker bee tries his best to nurture me and searches deep to help me find the key that might just unlock and help me free the, buried in the bourgeoisie, that with time and effort I could someday be secure in a place of great integrity rooted deep within the company's family tree taking bullet point steps from A to Z leaping over the boring parts like a corporate flea. I look at my supposed luminary, and I simply don't agree.
And I'll sell my soul, I'm just waiting for an appropriate fee.
No penny loafer wearing fuck's gonna short change me.
Scroobius P-I-P till I D-I-E
So fuck it, I'm back in the rat race again, but that's cool
because amongst these rats I've found some straight up true friends.
And I've started drawing my own map, you ain't gonna believe where this shit ends.
Aw shit, I'm back in the rat race again.
And what's worse, most of these fuckin' rats are my friends.
And worse still I've lost my map so I don't know where this shit ends.
Awwwww shit, I'm back in the rat race again.
As I wake up with the previous night still ringing in my fragile head
Trying to piece together any shitty thing I might've done or might've said
I drag my lifeless carcass to it's feet and out of bed and clock in to another day.
Another day within which I can look forward to the possibility that, maybe today will be the day that something interrupts the never ending list of mundane tasks that sit between me and the closing bracket of my drive home.
Maybe today'll be the day that something snaps as I think back and react to the distinct lack of impact in my shrink wrapped life.
Maybe today'll be the day that I'll tear down the foundations of my whole existence and start again,
knee deep in the rubble, rummaging, for something that I can use as a starting point.
Something to jump off of.
But then, the future ain't what it used to be.
And as the day's tasks reverberate around my dormant brain, I continue to greet another member of public with a perfect replica of what is known as a welcoming smile.
I switch off all unnecessary facets and glide through the day on cruise control remembering what life was like before this role.
And as I stare blankly from my till point I start to tap my feet to the discreet beat the general public secretes.
The footsteps
The breathing
That one baby screaming
The coughing and the heaving
Those unruly kids out thieving
But before long, my creative daydream is once again interrupted by the ever watching eyes of the management
See, like a child spinning in circles just to make himself dizzy, my only real requirement in this place is to make sure I look busy.
But I'm using that to my advantage, see.
'cause just as not every open eye is seeing, not every closed eye is sleeping.
So while they pay me for this paint by numbers shit
Every thought I have, I'm keeping.
And remember, the same shit can taste pretty different if they season it right
So if youre gonna sell out your beliefs, make sure your reasons are watertight.
And as the chief worker bee tries his best to nurture me and searches deep to help me find the key that might just unlock and help me free the, buried in the bourgeoisie, that with time and effort I could someday be secure in a place of great integrity rooted deep within the company's family tree taking bullet point steps from A to Z leaping over the boring parts like a corporate flea. I look at my supposed luminary, and I simply don't agree.
And I'll sell my soul, I'm just waiting for an appropriate fee.
No penny loafer wearing fuck's gonna short change me.
Scroobius P-I-P till I D-I-E
So fuck it, I'm back in the rat race again, but that's cool
because amongst these rats I've found some straight up true friends.
And I've started drawing my own map, you ain't gonna believe where this shit ends.
Aw shit, I'm back in the rat race again.