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Tom MacDonald

Anarchy // Spoken Word

Originally published: Tom MacDonald Youtube Channel (June 13, 2018)

I got away from all the chains they tried to lock me up with I wasn’t made for nine to fives or working in construction I never fit the system, my description is the suspect I gave ’em all the finger then I rode into the sunset And I don’t wanna be promoted, I don’t need to raise a buck And I don’t want the Christmas bonus or the new company truck Keep that silly fucking uniform I had to wash and dry I’m not a brick that’s in your wall but you’re a thorn that’s in my side I was born to not comply with all the orders and defy All of the horrors I’ve survived, I feel like normal’s a disguise And I don’t want an application or a half an hour lunch Or a cubicle to work a job that I don’t even love My veins are full of gasoline, my motor’s made of stolen parts I’ve tightened all the nuts and bolts but I don’t wanna work on cars The system’s tryna smother me but anarchy is in my heart They slashed my tires and cut my brakes, I’ll crash now if it even starts My boss don’t even know that I make music he would care about He thinks I’m just some stoner stackin’ boxes in a warehouse I got dreams and goals and things, I’m told at work I’m told to keep aspiring When music is my full time job then nobody can fire me But right now it ain’t hiring, my groceries expiring My rent is due, my phone is off, the extra shifts are tiring I know I’m made for more than what my resume reflects The government is tryna dumb me down with guns and booze and sex I’m not a salesman, I couldn’t sell beer in the prohibition I’ve never been the type to make a livin’ off commission I’m no good at wearin’ suits or doing taxes for a business I wanna count some money, not the hours and the minutes I’m not a carpenter, a lawyer, a doctor, I’m not a waiter Or a teacher or a cop or a plumber, I’m not a tradesman Or an architect, an engineer, a pilot or a mailman I’m somethin’ that don’t fit into their perfect little gameplan I’m me And they can try to kill my spirit with overtime when the barn burns But if there’s one thing I ain’t scared of it is long days and hard work So they can pay themselves a dollar while I only make a cent But I will stack up all my pennies ’til they’re higher than the fence Then I’ll climb them like a ladder and jump to the other side Spend the nickels that I made on a taxi or hitch a ride Bet they never thought they’d see the day I left them to survive And used the system that they built to leave their system all behind

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