Working Poor from Eastside Anthology by Fool's Errand

This grinds an endless struggle
Get in line, punch the clock
50 years of sacrifice
Times up, you get your gold-plated watch

Boss man’s on a roll again
You break your back just to make him rich
The long shifts have taken their toll
You’d like to break his fuckin’ neck

The years of toil and stress
One payday ahead of poverty
Robbed yourself to pay your debts
You’re back for more just for the Company

You’ve lost your will to live
The axe fell hard and you felt the sting
You’ve got nothing left to give
The bottle calls when the phone don’t ring

Building frustration
And we can’t take it anymore
A starving nation proves that we’re losing
Our class war

And at the end of the day
What are we killing ourselves for?
Somewhere along the way
The working class became working poor

On your feet so long
you could hardly stand it
Calloused hands grasp for a living wage
But your pride won’t demand it

And those 4 walls closed in, there was nowhere you could run
Marching in place as you went 50 times around the sun
But no more.

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