Matchbox 20 lyrics : "Disease"


Say you wouldn't sell your soul
but you already have
for a few bucks an hour
your life is up for grabs

you're doing shit that you hate
nearly every single day
you don't mind getting bossed around
as long as you get paid

[x2]
Work, work, work you dog
work you fucking dog
Work, work, work you dog
be happy you got a job

what's my time really worth
I'm dividing up my life
I'll sell it to you by the hour
and for discount price

there's simply no resisting
you'll do it till you die
because its an endless cycle
of getting paid and getting by

[x2]
Work, work, work you dog
work you fucking dog
Work, work, work you dog
be happy you got a job

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Thanks to guest

Writer(s): Michael, Rob Thomas
Copyright: Emi Blackwood Music Inc., Jagged Music, Emi April Music Inc., U Rule Music
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