Each day I wake up in this gray old town
Each day the system tries to beat me down
With a minimum wage in the factory
I'm slaving in the Twentieth Century
And the whole damn world is ganging up
To bring me to my knees
And now the nieghbors make it loud and clear
They want no ravers moving in around here
'cause I won't play ball, won't do as I'm told
I'd rather be a square peg in a round hole
Don't let the bastards grind you down
Don't let them grind you down
I'm living in a world where I don't really fit
Every day running down the same old shit
I'm gonna get my gun, gonna get prepared
I'm not impressed and I don't really care
Writer(s): Robert Hingley
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