The Rut

 

Gotta get out,
Gotta get out,
Gotta get out
Of the rut,
I wanna be rich
As old King tut,
I crave, I need,
A bigger cut.

Have to escape,
Have to escape,
Have to escape
From this drudgery,
It’s making life a mockery,
O Mammon, set me free!

Wanna be loaded,
Gilded and bloated,
Fly in my own private jet,
Long time I been dreamin’,
An’ plannin’ an’ schemin’,
But nothing has come of it yet.

Don’t wanna die,
Don’t wanna die,
Don’t wanna die
So poor,
But if I can’t swing
Then death has no sting,
And I don’t wanna live anymore.

Gotta get out,
Gotta get out,
Gotta get out
Of the rut,
I wanna be rich
As old King tut,
I crave, I need,
A bigger cut.

Have to escape,
Have to escape,
Have to escape
From this drudgery,
It’s making life a mockery,
O Mammon, set me free!

Back To Poetry Index