Wage Slave - Ed Gein

This sound gets in my head

Wears me out, wears me down

I dream about this shit, I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough

Box, Tape, Stack, Repeat

Paper cuts and sore feet

Hell has a punch clock at the door

Minimum wage for my soul

I won’t do this anymore

From 9 to 5 you slowly die, and the American Dream will suck you dry

Box, tape, stack, repeat

Paper cut’s and sore feet

Hell has a punch clock at the door