Forty Bucks an Hour

[Verse 1]
Punch in late
Coffee in hand
Leans on the counter
Scrolls through his feed again
Says, "Man, they’d crash
If I called out"
While the rest of us
Drag cable, push pallets around
[Chorus]
He wants forty bucks an hour
For standing in the aisle and talking tough
Says he runs this whole place
But never lifts a box, that’s rich enough
While we’re loading up the trucks
He’s leaning on the counter for a smoke and a shower
King of doing nothing much
Still screaming that he’s worth forty bucks an hour (hey)
[Verse 2]
Orders all wrong
Blames the screen
Blames the system
Blames the whole damn team
Labels crooked
Paperwork blank
But he’s got stories
’Bout how he built this bank
[Chorus]
He wants forty bucks an hour
For standing in the aisle and talking tough
Says he runs this whole place
But never lifts a box, that’s rich enough
While we’re loading up the trucks
He’s leaning on the counter for a smoke and a shower
King of doing nothing much
Still screaming that he’s worth forty bucks an hour
[Bridge]
"I do everything"
He says it every day (every day)
But if "everything"
Means getting in the way
We’ll clock him out
While he’s counting phantom pay
Dreaming ’bout a raise
On his fifteen-minute break
[Chorus]
He wants forty bucks an hour
For standing in the aisle and talking tough
Says he runs this whole place
But never lifts a box, that’s rich enough
While we’re loading up the trucks
He’s leaning on the counter for a smoke and a shower
King of doing nothing much
Still screaming that he’s worth forty bucks an hour
Still screaming that he’s worth forty bucks an hour

rock, Fast, crunchy pop-punk with male vocals, palm-muted power chords exploding into a shout-along chorus. Tempos stays driving and anxious; verses tight and snarky, bass locked with kick. Choruses open with gang vocals and big cymbal crashes. Brief half-time bridge with shouted call-and-response, then final chorus double-time to close., emo, pop punk, punk