Dear Bank Manager

deannemcdeannemc Posts: 5
edited January 2009 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Dear Bank Manager

Give the bastards a little power
And watch them try to screw you over
They’re all the same
To them it’s a game
Watching from the ivory tower

Why the fuck should someone else decide
If by their rules you don’t abide
How you live
On what they give
‘Cause the application is again denied

Join the fuckin real world
Where survival is a bastard
Sittin in your ivory tower
With your rose coloured glasses

While we struggle to make a buck
Where survival has nothing to do with luck
No company car
No junkets afar
You read your little rulebook and don’t give a fuck

Too fuckin weak to have a go yourself
Shiny awards lining the shelf
Prick of the year
Most illustrious career
Another mechanical little green elf

Join the fuckin real world
Where survival is a bastard
Sittin in your ivory tower
With your rose coloured glasses

Tryin to tell me how to make a go of it
When you need permission to take a shit
So fuck you
And your boss too
Draw your wage and reports say you’re a hit

Thinking you got so many mates
But you’re the one everyone fuckin hates
Sittin there smirking
While behind you’re lurking
Trying to find new ways to berate

So stick you dick up your ass
And I hope you choke on your lies
There’s no way in hell you’ll tell me what to do
So try this song for size
Fuck you
:twisted:
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