Yeah... Look at 'em line up.
Another army of entitled Karens and corporate kings.
They think my uniform means I sold my dignity.
They think this badge means they own my throat.
Smile for the camera, baby.
Let's get it.
Welcome to the theater of the absolute absurd
Where I gotta bow my head to every single twisted word
"Excuse me, cashier, this item should be free!"
They screaming at a kid making minimum fee
My veins are popping, my blood is starting to boil
But I’m trained to be a servant on this corporate soil
I tape my lips together, paint a grin on my face
While my inner demon’s planning how to erase this place
They slam their platinum cards, yelling 'cause they had to wait
Treating human beings like a target for their hate
You're lucky there’s a counter and a plexiglass wall
Or your fragile little ego would be taking a fall.
I put on a fake smile, but I’m a monster inside
Behind this polite mask is where the killers abide
You think you’re talking to a servant who's benign
But you’re dancing with a monster that’s crossing the line
Smile for the picture, nod to the pain
(Bang) Another soul dying in the corporate rain.
"Thank you for choosing us, please come back again"
I say it like a robot while I'm trapped in this pen
The district manager is watching through the CCTV
Counting every second of my forced empathy
A guy throws his coffee 'cause it ain't got enough ice
I gotta clean the counter up and ask him real nice:
"Would you like another one, sir? On the house?"
While in my mind, I’m snapping his neck like a mouse
They don't see the knuckles turning white in my vest
They just see a happy slave passing the test.
I put on a fake smile, but I’m a monster inside
Behind this polite mask is where the killers abide
You think you’re talking to a servant who's benign
But you’re dancing with a monster that’s crossing the line
Smile for the picture, nod to the pain
(Bang) Another soul dying in the corporate rain.
You like hitting people when they can't hit back, huh?
You like throwing tantrums 'cause the policy says I can't react?
But the store closes at nine...
And this apron comes off.
Who are you when you don't have a manager to call?
Let's see who's big, let's see who's small.
The clock strikes nine, the neon lights shut down
The retail prison turns into a ghost town
I strip off the nametag, spit on the floor
No more"Yes, ma'am," as I walk out the door
The monster is loose, the camouflage is gone
I'm a free man walking in the shadow of the dawn
Every piece of your disrespect, I turned it into rhyme
Every single insult, a ticking pipe bomb of time
I ain't your servant, I ain't your punching bag
I’m the nightmare that flies under your corporate flag
Next time you wanna yell at a working man’s face
Remember the smiling monster waiting in his place.
I put on a fake smile, but I’m a monster inside
Behind this polite mask is where the killers abide
You think you’re talking to a servant who's benign
But you’re dancing with a monster that’s crossing the line
Smile for the picture, nod to the pain
(Bang) Another soul dying in the corporate rain.
Store's closed.
Yeah. Go home to your perfect little suburban life.
But don't forget who serves your food.
Who fixes your cars.
We see you.
