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Ball In The House



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Ball In The House

Fantasy Land

Going to my big 9 to 5 job
Everybody's going to their big 9 to 5 job
You punch in your card and then turn your brain off
Everybody's going to their big corporation
You were feeding from a bottle then, now you're feeding from a trough
But I'm in fantasyland
Where I'm driving past the cattle
They make you build a box
You squeeze yourself in
And tell yourself that dreaming
Is some kind of sin
But I'd rather live in a box on the street
Than to have some Martha Stewart tell me what caviar to eat
(I tell Martha what to eat)
When I torch your office you'll wish you lit the match
When I torch the teacher's lounge you'll wish you lit the match
But I'm in fantasyland
I'm sick of reality
My mom and dad lied
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The world doesn't revolve around me
My eyes are open wide
I made a bargain in kindergarten
I told myself to push myself and wait for tomorrow
Do I matter in this scheme?
Or take one for the team?
Or take one for the team, a team I never understood
Going to my big 9 to 5 job
They teach you to give up
To paint inside the lines
You have no purpose
But to spit up spit out spit it back
Take a look around, cause it's you they're putting down
You'll wish you were in fantasyland
Everybody's going to their big 9 to 5 job
Everybody's going but they don't want to go no, no, no
I'm in fantasyland