The Production of Waste

Take me as I am or send me to the trash bin
Sing a song of sixpence and tell me I’m a has been
Wake me from my dreaming and tell me I’ve been snoring
Show me all my faults and tell me it’s a warning

Rise upon the day
And tell me its the morning
Let me know my mourning
It’s getting too damn boring
Send me to the mines
And sell me all your shoring
But I was not born just yesterday
And I may not be the thing you think
Is constantly conforming

Lines upon the sand
And I see the way their drawing
Making such a cage for me
In the hopes that I’ll keep clawing
But I am not a beast or prey
And the wood that you’ve been sawing
Is actually reinforced concrete
Holding up the frail taut awing.

But what do I know?
I’m just some construction worker who has no clue what he’s talking about…