Cyst

A job's a job and off and on keeps it from getting sad

It takes a lot to talk to god but maybe it's not bad

In trying hard to keep your chin up, you let yourself back down

Went too far and forced to give up, don your thorny crown

I'm done

Work's fun

I'm done

Work's fun

You'd rise above a hopeless love if it wasn't for a cyst

But next week might not be so bleak, ignore a bleeding wrist

She wasn't worth it anyway because she didn't like your bed

Open up your Saturdays to reminiscing with the dead

I'm done

Work's fun

I'm done

Work's fun

I'm done

Work's fun

I'm done

Work's fun

I'm done

Work's fun

I'm done

Work's fun