Big Black Box

When i'm in work I don't feel the work pains

I don't hear the gears crank

Nobody has the time for that

Then on the back step I'm racking up my sick pay

I listen for the song that the earth plays

I used to have an ear for that

I gotta get it back

I wish I could take the fattest cut

Toss it on the grill and cook it up

Even if I save my money up I still feel bad

When I get to feeling things again

Nothing around to put my feelings in

I run out of time money and energy and I feel bad

I lose the feeling out the back door and I try to reel it in

Before I get buried in a big black box

I pack my bags with pepper and salt

I'm gonna climb that hill until I reach the top

I'm gonna cock that gun

I’m gonna shoot that boar

I’m not gonna eat like a fool no more