GRINDSTONE IF YOU FIND YOURSELF STANDING AT THE END OF YOUR LINE LOOKING FOR A PIECE OF SOMETHING MAYBE A PIECE OF MIND FED UP, LOST AND RUN DOWN NOWHERE TO HOLD ON TIRED OF "TAKE YOUR PLACE AT THE END SON. WE'LL GET TO YOU ONE BY ONE." NO LIGHT EVER SHINES ON DEAD END TEARS THAT DRY MAYBE A WASTE OF WORDS AND TIME BUT NEVER A WASTE OF LIFE THOUGH EVERY HOUR WILL BE SPENT FILLING A QUOTA JUST GETTING ALONG HANDCUFFS HURT WORSE WHEN YOU'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG NO THANKS TO THE TREADMILL NO THANKS TO THE GRINDSTONE THERE IS PLENTY OF DISSENT FROM THESE RUNGS BELOW THE CLOCKWORK OF DESTRUCTION HANGING LOW OVER OUR HEADS ALWAYS A SMOKESTACK CLOUD FOR A SLOW WALKING DEATH NO LIGHT EVER SHINES ON DEAD END TEARS THAT DRY MAYBE A WASTE OF WORDS AND TIME BUT NEVER A WASTE OF LIFE NO THANKS TO THE TREADMILL NO THANKS TO THE GRINDSTONE THERE'S PLENTY OF DISSENT FROM THESE RUNGS BELOW THE CLOCKWORK OF DESTRUCTION HANGING CLOSE OVER OUR HEADS ALWAYS A SMOKESTACK CLOUD FOR A SLOW WALKING DEATH NO LIGHT EVER SHINES ON DEAD END TEARS THAT DRY MAYBE A WASTE OF WORDS AND TIME BUT NEVER A WASTE OF LIFE MAYBE A WASTE OF WORDS AND TIME BUT NEVER A WASTE OF LIFE