Tell My Boss, "I Hate You"
I don't wanna wake up to an alarm clock ever again.
I don't wanna sit through 8 AM traffic ever again.
First hour of these 15 days that I'll be away, I feel I'm never coming back.
For 15 days I'm not gonna have to button my shirt or wear a neck tie.
For 15 days all I gotta do is drink drink drink till I fucking die.
Cubicle vs. the fresh air? We know who's winning there.
I feel I'm never going back.
Home is punching in.
Home is 9 to 5.
So tell my boss, "I hate you and it's time for you to die."
Take it back.
Take the bathroom key.
Take the stapler that doesn't belong to me.
Look, dick, I'm not gonna wake up stressed about things that have nothing to do with me.
Pass me another beer.
The wind is in my hair. I feel I'm never going back.
For 15 days I'm not gonna have to be a yes man for bad ideas.
I'll get to play, I'll get to drink, I'll wake up hungover but I won't care.
Sure it's a two week holiday, but I'll see if I can stay.
I feel I'm never going back.
Back to punching in, sleeping at my desk. Back to 9 to 5.
So tell my boss, "I hate you and it's time for you to die a slow death, bleed in excess, give my life back and kiss my ass."
I'm not punching in.
I'm not working for some dick.
I'm sleeping 9 to 5.
So tell my boss "I hate you and it's time for you to die."
