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No real direction in our lives
Like weathervanes in the wind
Moved by so many counter pressure points
Our movements are only winds
It started the day light came to us
We were children of circumstance
It will live the day they burry us
You can bet it'll be just my chance
In that daily grind
Wasting all our time
In that daily grind
Taking all our time
Like mechanical men
We march to work
At a job we really hate
We fight through the traffic
To make it there
So the clock won't count us late
We shuffle through our papers
And answer the phone
Tell our boss how we love our work
Cause we know there's few doors
In our prison world
So we all just play our part
In that daily grind
Wasting all our time
In that daily grind
Spending all our time
No changes or correction
In our waking lives
As circles we have no end
We go the same places
And we wear the same faces
While we live each day over again
In that daily grind
Wasting all our time
In that daily grind
Taking all our time