It's been years since I sold my soul.nWhat a life: no advice and no guidance.nWorked through the weekend at my bullshit jobnwith the pumps and the mops and the tire irons.nnNow us slaves break bread and go to work.nAnd these pigs will tread on our backs.nEvery bastard to pass through the grinderncan just laugh at the mania of his own nerves.nnI had to go to class but just drove on throughnthe rain and fog up Route Six past the mall.nDrank through paychecks, they don't last so long.nBut Monday we're on. Please, Monday, come.nnNow us slaves break bread and go to work.nAnd these pigs will tread on our backs.nEvery bastard to pass through the grinderncan just laugh at the mania of his own nerves.nnAnd embossed in the gold top hald of his nickel-plated watch:nLet's die while we're young. While we're still young.nnWhile us slaves break bread and go to work,nwhere sick pigs will shit down our backs.nEvery bastard to pass through the grindernour resolve is a reminder we are guts and bone.nAnd attached to three ring binder,nreminders of our old pact:nnnlet's die while we're young.nlet's die while we're young.nlet's die while we're young.nBut now we're too old for that.