Forrest Day – Assholes
Genre Pop

LYRIC
Assholes

Oh, I got tired
Every day was the same
Right up until I got fired
But no more of the same
No more of the same thing
But no more of the same
No more of the same thing

Hit the street
Time holding people in potholes
I just got fired, tired of working for assholes
If I'd lasted a little bit longer I would've quit
But it's three weeks till Christmas and I wanna buy my girlfriend a gift

Oh well, oh well
It's for the better, I can tell, I can tell, I can tell
I guess I don't respond well to middle management
And most of them are spineless little bastards
With a grudge against anyone like me
Who won't put up with an attitude
Monkeys pinching pennies telling me what to do

I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes

I could understand a little better if you're up in Trump Tower
But you're turning into monsters for ten bucks an hour
You're cowards, like monkeys with whips
I make a buck less than you and you want me to do backflips
Nah, you're mistaken, gotta bring home the bacon
But it's not worth the shit that I'm taking
The smiles you're faking
I'm sure I have my price
But it's more than nine-seventy-five

Oh, I got tired
Every day was the same
Right up until I got fired
Oh, I got tired
Every day was the same
Right up until I got fired
But no more of the same
No more of the same thing
But no more of the same
No more of the same thing

I know I'm too broke, but I need a vacation
I could save up some money, but I'm way too impatient
I know that a weekend away's within my reach
'Cause 's got a buddy who can put me in a room on the beach
No fee, no fee, just food and gasoline, gasoline, gasoline
Just gotta hop a couple hurdles that could make it hard
A small check, ensure to register my car
I know I'll just put it on a credit card
Get a job, make minimum payments to the

I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes
I'm tired of working for assholes

Ah, freedom at last
I got a pack of cigarettes, a twelve-pack of
I'm all set with the materials I need to forget
I told my girlfriend the news and she isn't even upset
She's the best, bless her little soul
When she gets home, dinner's ready
And I'll pack her a bowl
I'll pack my lady a bowl

Oh, I got tired
Every day was the same
Right up until I got fired
Oh, I got tired
Every day was the same
Right up until I got fired
But no more of the same
No more of the same thing
But no more of the same
No more of the same thing

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