Working In Benefits Street

The pen hits the paper Like the needle hitting that groove It just makes you, wanna move... Get up, go, no one likes a waster The pitch, how oh so sweet I'm sold, let me dream I'll rise to the top, be richer than cream Lets hope this life won't be so fleet That drive, how it runs so deep Deep, deeper than skin, down to the soul A fearless refusal to break or fall Drive so deep its scared to sleep Climbing, soaring, constant battling Incessant persual of the finer things Overcoming the hurtful stings Barbed comments but never yelling This is battle ground of the worker in a benfits class shroud.