Work! (Future Perfect)

Life is work!
That's what they say
I scribbled all over the back
Of the proof of my pay

And I was singing it's work!
Oh and that's work 'til you die
Go on make that dollar for somebody else
Maybe they'll hand you a dime

Oh it's an endless degradation
It's a hundred thousand little lacerations
The payoff of which couldn't fit
On any check that anyone could conceivably cut
Oh and you bleed and you bleed and you bleed
And the earth just laps it up

Oh work!
You've why I still smoke
And I gotta drink beer at the end of the day
'cause I gotta cope

With all of the work
That I suffer through
What they say is the truth
And that I should be thankful to do

Oh but they will mock us and they will mistreat us
'til they can replace us all with an app or a kiosk
And apathy is the natural byproduct
Of being exhausted and sick all the time
So don't tell me that working like this
Is the meaning of life

So yeah I work
But I try not to be defined
By what gets me paid
For an hour of my time

'cause it's just a means to an ending
And all of the energy that I end up expending
I will get back in spades
When the systems that necessitate
All of this work
Fall apart
And we can work for ourselves for a change!

So we gotta work
'Cause none of our visions
Of a better tomorrow
Are ever gonna come to fruition
Without a whole lotta work
Oh and that's all there is to it
So - god damn it -
I guess that we gotta do it!

Oh but that looks like
So many things
And these economics
They could never conceive
Of all of our value
Or measure our worth
No I will not let them tell me
What it means to do work