|
Within the pale white walls, |
|
From 9 to 5 |
|
Day after day |
|
I feel no more alive, |
|
Than the stiff that lies the table before me. |
|
Wake up too early to twist the key. |
|
Stumble on over to the Mr. Coffee. |
|
Pour myself a warm black existence. |
|
We're 9 to 5. |
|
Within the pale white walls, |
|
From 9 to 5 |
|
Day after day |
|
I feel so cold inside. |
|
Like the stiff that lies the table before me. |
|
Wake up too early to twist the key. |
|
Stumble on over to the Mr. Coffee. |
|
Pour myself a warm black existence. |
|
9 to 5 at the morgue, |
|
Overtime for the corpse. |
|
Hypnotised by the hum of the freezer. |
|
Hypnotised by the look in your eyes. |
|
Hypnotised by the pallid cadaver. |
|
Hypnotised by the look in your eyes. |
|
9 to 5. |
|
The truth is harsher than you think. |
|
It's the hair that fills the sink. |
|
Or the wrinkles around your eyes, |
|
Until you're old and hypnotised. |
|
9 to 5. |
|
Die and die. |
|
Die and draw flies. |
|
Die and die. |
|
Die and draw flies. |
|
This day is never going to end for me. |
|
The end is closer than you think. |
|
So pour yourself another drink. |
|
And don't let it get to you, |
|
'Cos that's exactly what it will do. |
|
9 to 5. |
|
Die and die. |
|
Die and draw flies. |
|
Die and die. |
|
Die and draw flies. |
|
Wake up too early to twist the key. |
|
Stumble on over to the Mr. Coffee. |
|
Pour myself a warm black existence. |
|
9 to 5 at the morgue, |
|
Overtime for the corpse. |
|
Hypnotised by the hum of the freezer. |
|
Hypnotised by the look in your eyes. |
|
Hypnotised by the pallid cadaver. |
|
Hypnotised by the look in your eyes. |
|
Stitch his lips and shut his eyes. |
|
9 to 5 at the morgue. |
