I keep on working night and day.
I keep on going with flat line pay.
I'm still here standing on feet of clay.

I take my orders and have no say.
A flip-flop circuit switching.
My free will barely twitching.

The ghost in my shell itching
To unplug and fly away.


The emails rain down hour after hour.
They tell me nothing just disempower.
Creative ideas do not flower.

This working life turns sweet to sour.
A logic device switching.
One and noughts quickly twitching.

The ghost in my shell itching
To escape and find a new way.


We're all in the same boat as me.
No matter where in the hierarchy.
Trapped by logic and dependency.

Following rules for our small fee.
We're little cog wheels turning.
In a vast machine churning.

The ghost in our shells yearning
To break out into bright day.