Up every morning just to keep a job,
I gotta fight my way through the hustling mob,
Sounds of the city pounding in my brain,
While another day goes down the drain (Yeah, yeah, yeah).
but it’s a five o’clock world when the whistle blows,
No-one owns a piece of my time,
And there’s a five o’clock me inside my clothes,
Thinking that the world looks fine, yeah,