Artificial light, hidden from the sky
Vision failing, strained and reddened eyes
Furrows on the brow, ache from within
Posture wilted, arthritis setting in
This place is Tartarus, withering the mind and heart
Being punished for being alive, helplessly falling apart
Slave to the grindstone, chained to the wheel
Wills broken, souls become part of the machine
Each of these days are all the same
Lifeless faces without a name
Trapped in circles of sheer dismay
Poisoning lives with a haze of grey
Moving pieces around the board
Wishes are memories, all dreams are ignored
Seconds on the screen ticking away
As time drifts away, to the end of the day
Every evening, worn out, passion drained
Nothing to be done, nothing to be gained
Lifeless shells recline, shutting down for the night
Filled with apathy, never put up a fight
One has had enough, pressure rising up
Though these times are tough, one will stand up
Slave to the grindstone, chained to the wheel
Wills broken, souls become part of the machine
Pebbles ground to dust, expendable parts made of joyless hearts
Molded to the square hole, longing to be free from misery
Longing for release, patience wearing thin
Hoping for the revolution to begin
The rules are set in stone, with no hope for change
Shackled to the wheel, crying out in vain
One has had enough, the cuffs have worn away too much
Pressure rising up, the damage has been done
Though these times are tough, one will stand up to it all
Opens the bottom drawer, reaches for a gun
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