I look outside trough the office window, many many cars
Time passing us by, with the background noise of clicks and
coughs
On the people passing on the halls, nice skin, few are the
scars
Uncomfortable are the shoes and awful the express coffees
Emails are annoying; no one seems to like them
When they are not bored, they are losing their minds
There must be a reason, everybody seems to smile to this fat
men
Listening with a fake smile is something that the gear
grinds
When you open the browser there is a set up page
With a beautiful afro American smiley family
Once in a while they can’t contain the frustrating rage
So they drink, snore, smoke and try to get laid
I remember my entry interview, hoping to do right
Trying to look smart, happy while watching the posture
Armed with such good lies, we both knew it was a fight
And no one could disagree; the waiting room is such a
torture