Work slave broken free

Day here, sun here
Checklist complete
Hands free, camera ready
Ready for the heat
Bring on the ectasy
The language of the young ones
It includes screaming loud
To let yourself free

I am a hostile alien
New to the world of fun
I love to work and cry
Together mushed up
No one, nobody
No fun, it's cruddy

My birthday coming and going,
I sort out the paperwork.
Christmas, Thanksgiving
I phone my family up
While sorting out bills and homework,
No it ain't overwork

Finally, one day came
That day i became insane
The day the lightning struck,
And I went home for once

I put my feet up,
Took a look at the watch
I sipped a cup of cocoa
And watched such and such
On this thing they call a telly

I hugged my young kids,
The smiles together were endless,
I felt this thing inside,
Thought it was happiness.
My heart was up there,
All my papers I started to tear
I knew this is the way I would stay
Until my death day.

Now I fly on rollercoasters,
Way up in the sky
With my mischief and sneaking skills,
I always trick people low and high
To think I already have payed
For things I really really haven't,
Now this is my way.

I live on the streets of London,
Because I have been robbed
Begging and screaming,
Why I lost that darn job
One day I was going to go to the park,
In my hurry, I forgot to to close the door
What lark!
I have become so careless,
So angry, fun driving me berserk,
I never saw that life has two parts...
Work and play, play and work.