Ca sĩ: Theory Of A Deadman Album: Scars And Souvenirs

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So sick of the hobos
Always beggin for change
I don't like how I gotta work
And they just sit around and get paid
I hate all of the people
Who can't drive their cars
Bitch you better get out of the way
Before I start falling apart

I hate how my wife
Is always up my ass
She always wants to buy brand new things
But I don't have the cash
(Oh please kill me now)

Oh I hate my job
All of my rich friends
I hate everyone to the bitter end
Nothing turns out right
There's no end in sight
I hate my life

How come I never get laid
Nice guys always lose
How could she have another headache
There's always some kind of excuse
I still hate my job
My boss is a dick
I don't get paid nearly enough
To put up with all of his shit
(Get on your way)

I hate my job
All my rich friends
I hate everyone to the bitter end
Nothing turns out right
There's no end in sight
I hate my life

I hate that I can't tell
When a girl's underage
You know I tell her she's a nice piece of ass
The her daddy punches me in the face

So if you're pissed like me
Bitch this is what you gotta do
Put you middle fingers up in the air
Go on and say "Fuck You"
(All together)

I hate my job
All of my rich friends
I hate everyone to the bitter end
Nothing turns out right
There's no end in sight
I hate my life
So much at stake
Can't catch a break
I hate my life
No it's nothing new
It sucks to be you
I hate my life