This tryin' to make a livin'

isn't supposed to feel like dyin'

Lookin' for my golden ticket, can't find no silver linin'

And these days, nine-to-five feels

more like twenty-five to life, and

Tryin' to make a livin' isn't supposed to feel like dyin'

I punch the clock, wanna punch

a ticket to New York and punch the boss

But they don't pay enough for me to cover that cost

So, I punch the Sheetrock instead

Cover my debts, keep the family fed

They've been promisin' me another dollar or three

But that talk is as cheap as these boots I'm wearin'

And that's been wearin', on more than my soul

And all that I know

This tryin' to make a livin'

isn't supposed to feel like dyin'

Lookin' for my golden ticket, can't find no silver linin'

And these days, nine-to-five feels

more like twenty-five to life, and

Tryin' to make a livin' isn't supposed

to feel like dyin', nah

Supposed to feel like dyin', nah

Red, blue, right, left, they still workin' us to death

And whatever's left over at the end's to the IRS

Head above water but I'm kickin' like hell

Ain't nobody lookin' out for me but myself

Ain't no gettin' out from under

all of these underpaid checks

And last time I checked

This tryin' to make a livin'

isn't supposed to feel like dyin'

Lookin' for my golden ticket, can't find no silver linin'

And these days, nine-to-five feels more

like twenty-five to life, and

Tryin' to make a livin' isn't supposed

to feel like dyin', nah (Hell no)

Supposed to feel like dyin', nah (Hell no, hell no)

Supposed to feel like dyin', nah

This tryin' to make a livin'

isn't supposed to feel like dyin'

Lookin' for my golden ticket, can't find no silver linin'

And these days, nine-to-five feels more

like twenty-five to life, and

Tryin' to make a livin' isn't supposed

to feel like dyin', nah (Hell no)

Supposed to feel like dyin', nah (Hell no)

Supposed to feel like dyin', nah (Hell no)

(Hell no)

(Hell no)

(Hell no)

(Hell no)