I can’t stand working with someone else,
I turn into a helper, and they become a/the boss
They think teamwork is telling me what to do
They have their opinion, [but] that opinion ain’t the truth
It’s motel art [on the wall] that nobody pays attention to
I know how to do my job better than they do
It’s dog eat dog, they want a leash around you
Trying to force the next man to assimilate
It’s one man’s preference, he calls it “the right way”
I won’t even remember it after today
I wanna work at my own pace, without you alongside
But I’m in their truck, just along for a ride
Getting a trial by fire is a distant pipe dream
There’s other modes of being, but he can’t see
Sight blocked by prison bars and a flatline beep
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