LYRIC

running, nothing but running, just running, nothing but
running. we are the guards, we are the sentinels, we are
the police and we are the bureaucrats. we are the workers
so we are the replaceables and exposables. running,
nothing but runnning. a slight unease and a nervous smile
make less than minimum wage for buffering betweeen the
upper and lower class. not until we, who struggle for our
petty privilege, stop chasing empty goals can we set our
own pace. running, nothing but running, just running,
nothing but running

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