Smoke Breaks - The Bled

Slave away.
For the price of your youth you can earn yourself a dying wage.
You锛噐e worth your weight in the sweat that you spill for good of the company.
At the end of the night counting on your smokebreaks you seem to move a lot of product but the product doesn锛噒 move anyone, and that锛噑 the honest to god damned truth.
Did you answer the call when it came or did you call it a day?
Like my father, he buried his passion, sacrificed the twelve-bar blues to take on the real world.
At dawn I awoke to go back to the clockwork where I sing my songs to whoever will listen.
A glimpse of the good life beyond 9 to 5 to the has-beens, the no ones, civilians and children.
On the company dime, burning all your smokebreaks you seem to move a lot of product but the product doesn锛噒 move...
Trudge on, workhorse.
God help you all you锛噐e just getting by.
You run like a river without a prize in your sights.
Bleed on.
Bleed on.
Bleed yourself dry.
This road is my bride.
She will wreck your life.
It锛噑 for me to decide.
How you锛噇l wreck your life.
Cut the queen, just try.
She will wreck your life.
It锛噑 for me to decide.
How you锛噇l wreck your life.
Cut the queen, just try.
She will wreck your life.
It锛噑 my life to wreck in my own way.