Songtext von Cog

I wake up in the dark, my shift is already waiting for me Selling eight hours of my life for a sum that wasn't even Enough to live on just enough to make it back Tomorrow again, and again, without ever arriving I'm a number, I'm a badge, I'm a target, I'm a function My existence reduced to a production spreadsheet Sartre said I invent myself with every gesture But what gesture do I have left when I sell my body and everything else? Cog I spin but I'm not going anywhere Cog They wear me down until I become scrap and junk They trade my life For a wage that doesn't cut it Cog And the machine never breaks They call me a resource human only on paper Disposable when I get sick Forgettable when I'm loyal Productivity demands That I erase who I am And at the end of the month What's left barely covers what it cost Nausea from selling time that'll never come back From knowing that my essence has become profit for others Condemned to be free in a cage with a clock Free to choose Between hunger And my torment Cog I spin but I'm not going anywhere Cog They wear me down until I become scrap and junk Clock in The gear swallows me Meets the quota Empties me from the inside I smile at the boss While I'm dying inside I am not a part I am not disposable I stop the machine I step off the assembly line I refuse the id badge I am not a gear I am what the machine will never grind down I am what's left over When I say no