Job

What’s the point of this fucking job?
It really gets my goat!
It’s such a waste of bloody time,
I’m going to get my coat!

Well, I would if I didn’t need the cash,
I’d be out of here like a shot,
One day when I win the lottery,
They can stick the sodding lot!

Staring at a ruddy screen,
All day frigging long!
It’s a wonder I don’t twat the manager,
Or let loose with my tongue!

Go to hell you little twerp,
I’d love to rant and rage,
But no, I sit here seething,
Growling in my cage.

Stabbing at the keyboard,
Wishing I weren’t here,
My mind on sexy happenings,
And ice cold frothy beer.

The sun is out, I’m stuck inside,
I could throw some bloody bricks,
At stupid, dumb ass customers,
The big fat hairy pricks!!