Terminal Men

Staring at the monotonous flicker
trying to make some sense of it all
wondering if it could get any sicker
drones seperated by a cubicle wall

slaving for the unseen queen bee
they're all afraid to reason or rebel
the paychecks all that they see
in a quarry they're just a pebble

burning the midnight oil all night long
wondering when they'll see daylight
they'll never see right or wrong
never will they put up a fight

but soon the time will come
when they will take a stand
till then all you'll hear is the drum
and them marching past the band

and before they know it
their lifes passed them by
they'll think of their story never writ
all the while they've been living a lie