For The Workforce, Drowning - Thursday

Falling from the top floor your lungs

fill like parachutes

windows go rushing by.

people inside,

dressed for the funeral in black and white.

These ties strangle our necks, hanging in the closet,

found in the cubicle;

without a name, just numbers, on the resume stored in the mainframe,

marked for delete.

please take these hands

throw them in the river,

wash away the things they never held

please take these hands,

throw me in the river,

dont let me drown before the workday ends.

9 to 5!

9 to 5!

and we’re up to our necks,

drowning in the seconds,

ingesting the morning commute

lost in a dead subway sleep

Now we lie wide awake in our parents beds,

tossing and turning.

tomorrow we’ll get up

drive to work,

single file

with everyday

it’s like the last.

waiting for the life to start, is it always just always ahead of the curve?

please take these hands

throw them in the river,

wash away the things they never held

please take these hands,

throw me in the river,

dont let me drown before the workday ends.

just keep making copies

of copies

of copies

when will it end?

it’ll never end,

'til it gets so bad

that the ink fills in our fingerprints

and the silouhette of your own face becomes the black cloud of war

and even in our dreams we’re so afraid the weight will offset who we are

all those breaths that you took have now been canceled in your lungs.

last night my teeth fell out like ivory typewriter keys

and all the monuments and skyscrapers burned down and filled the sea.

save our ship

the anchor is part of the desk

we can’t cut free,

the water is flooding the decks

the memo’s sent through the currents

computers spark like flares

i can see them.

they don’t touch me,

touch me.

please someone,

teach me how to swim.

please, don’t let me drown,

please, don’t let me drown.