At the Cannery
Words are flying at me at the speed of sound
But the machines are too loud for me to hear
He's trying hard to demonstrate something
What it is isn't totally clear
Six months and it's six A.M.,
I've got a lot of things to ask myself
Is it really worth the minimum wage
To risk my sanity and health?

It's history
It's inevitability
Cultivating my despair
I'm not going anywhere

Working at the cannery stacking tin cans
Why is anybody here?
What are the choices?
Who makes the questions?
Can you define a career?
The working class aren't asking any questions
Who would have the answers to supply
The myth of freedom is the crux of the problem
It defines the existential lie
It's history
It's inevitability
Cultivating my despair
I'm not going anywhere

It's history
It's inevitability
Cultivating my despair
I'm not going anywhere