Hopeless Hustle

Working at late hours, Seeing ugly owls, Yet still the paid isn't ours After all of the hustle And so much bustle, Our bowls are still empty Even if there's a meal, Hmm, it must be salty All that we pray is to be heal From the hash-ness of poverty And to have our own property The hash calling of our boss, Is the same as an old bus Even if he doesn't call U at all, Just do something , after all You'll still be call