Morning breaks, another day of slaving like a mug.
Six pounds and eight pence for every hour that they deprive me of.
From factory floor to the warehouse and back feeling grateful,

For anything that comes my way eight honest hours graft.
Contracted for a day or two, a Lilliputian task.
You'll work like a dog, taking pride in the job if you're able. Though unlikely.


Chorus:
Best not to dwell when them agency girls come calling,

On the work next week they may offer you back at the line
Every hour you're on, though you wish that your off,
Is the means to an end you just can't forgo.

Slave to your wage, now you're signing on Adecco.
Adecco calling.


Left suffering reality as false hopes fade away.
The weight of disappointment looms with every week they pay.
You're cursing their chores as you crave something more not forthcoming.

In arrogance perhaps, convinced your time is poorly spent.
In minimum wage repetition, scraping home the rent.
Resenting your place, just a rat in their race, beat, succumbing to their offers.


Chorus


Well the wedge isn't great, and your back may break, never knowing if you're coming back.
Hard graft all hours of day, but equal pay to the full time blokes its unheard to crack.
taking holiday is another way to gamble with your prospects - they say thats for fools.

The game was never fair but I kept going back there, so I got my head down and played by their rules.

Twisting the blade comes a cruel irony, misery seeded by opportunity, regrets serve nobody and hope only flatters to deceive.


Best not to dwell when them agency girls come calling,
On the work next week they may offer you back at the line

Every hour you're on, though you wish that your off,
Is the means to an end you just can't forgo.
Slave to your wage, now you're signing on Adecco.

If you don't take these shifts you're done as you know.
Slave to your wage now your signing on Adecco.
Adecco calling.