In the end we’re just dust
and right now we’re all breathing.
So what’s the point in drowning our lives
in obligations and in meetings?

We’re beggars, we’re choosers
’till the time bomb hits zero.
No jobs, masters, gods, or wives
We are our own heroes.

So I’ll burn this degree tonight,
A sixty-thousand dollar fire.
Wont save all my life,
just to grow old, retire.

And if you have a problem,
take it up with your own.
Enjoy your new house and car
I’ll be laughing all alone.