Letras
Isaiah's stacking shelves at dawn's first light
Cereal's home gets olives every night
He's pacing aisles like a lost crusade
The map in his head's a blurry cascade
"Hey. Can I help?" he asks with a grin
But he's clueless about the aisle you're in
Pointing left when it's clearly right
Isaiah's chaos is a customer's plight
Isaiah the merchandiser king
Doesn't know where to put a single thing
He's dreaming of a life that's free and sweet
Where no jar decides his fate or defeat
He grumbles low as the hours drag
"An easier job
That's the dream I flag"
Shelves rebel
The products mock
Isaiah's losing to the time-clock
Palms are sweaty
But not from the grind
He's daydreaming hard of a job reclined
No aisles
No jars
No cereal war
Just a desk
A chair
And an unlocked door
Isaiah the merchandiser king
Doesn't know where to put a single thing
He's dreaming of a life that's free and sweet
Where no jar decides his fate or defeat
Fate or defeat