A job's a job and off and on keeps it from getting sad It takes a lot to talk to god but maybe it's not bad In trying hard to keep your chin up, you let yourself back down Went too far and forced to give up, don your thorny crown I'm done Work's fun I'm done Work's fun You'd rise above a hopeless love if it wasn't for a cyst But next week might not be so bleak, ignore a bleeding wrist She wasn't worth it anyway because she didn't like your bed Open up your Saturdays to reminiscing with the dead I'm done Work's fun I'm done Work's fun I'm done Work's fun I'm done Work's fun I'm done Work's fun I'm done Work's fun