It starts so early, half past five,
I am awake, but not alive,
The sun is up, but in my eyes,
Though half asleep, I soon arise.

I make some coffee, read the news,
(I'd love to get a little snooze),
But daylight only lasts a day,
So I am up and on my way.

I grab a taxi, head for work,
(For I am just a payroll clerk),
I'm crunching numbers, what a blast,
I wish this day would go by fast.

I'm in a coma in this job,
I write the cheques and pay the mob,
But they are so upset with me,
It makes me want to up and flee.

They say that they should get a raise,
I try to calm them with some praise,
And tell them that they're doing fine,
But all they do is wimp and whine.

Another day, another dime,
The corporate ladder I would climb,
But I don't have the time or strength,
To run the race and go the length.

So I just sit behind this desk,
And try to look so statuesque,
And though a smile is on my face,
My mind is in another place.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul