Tring to work myself outt this mess,
Working for a boss who don't care less,
I'm just a number ain't got no name
To him I'm just a pawn in his power game.
Chorus
Yeah, I'm working like a dog
Can't see no way outta this dead end job.
What's in the future where do I go,
Somebody tell me 'cause I don't know
Gotta feed my kids and pay the rent,
Pay back the money I already lent,
Just digging myself a deeper hole,
Working myself to death what a way to go.
Chorus
So I get outt work and hit the bars
Knocking them dead with our guitars
Up on this stage we call the shots
Spitting words of venom about what we got
Chorus
Next day, back to the grindstone, breaking my back,
Gotta do my bit or face the sack
But I keep on dreaming of the day we rise
And the glorious sight as our flag flies