| I see those busy faces, sticking in their cases
|
| Their way of living makes no sense to me
|
| Don’t wanna be a zombie
|
| Work in the hopeless army
|
| There must be something out there better for me
|
| Hurry up, that’s what my daddy used to say
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| Hurry up, son don’t you ever be late
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| Hurry up, you boss is watching his mighty clock
|
| Hurry up, hurry up!
|
| Addicted to authority is what they are
|
| And the prospect of recovery just seems so far
|
| Addicted to authority is what they’ll be
|
| This kind of imprisonment ain’t no good for me
|
| Walking down the streets of
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| Misery in selfmade handcuffs
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| Learn how to listen, learn how to fear
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| They’re all caught, fucked up for life
|
| In their jail from nine to five
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| From five to nine, smile from ear to ear
|
| Hurry up, that’s what my daddy used to say
|
| Hurry up, son don’t you ever be late
|
| Hurry up, you boss is watching his mighty clock
|
| Hurry up, hurry up!
|
| Addicted to authority is what they are
|
| And the prospect of recovery just seems so far
|
| Addicted to authority is what they’ll be
|
| This kind of imprisonment ain’t no good for me
|
| I see no rocketmen, no movie-stars around
|
| All I see is simple people who’ll never make it out
|
| They’ll never leave the ground
|
| They’ll die without a sound
|
| Addicted to authority is what they are
|
| And the prospect of recovery just seems so far
|
| Addicted to authority is what they’ll be
|
| This kind of imprisonment ain’t no good for me |