I worked third-shift at a gas station, and wrote the lyrics to fill my time. I then set it to music.
Lyrics
I go to work 'though I don't know
The purpose of my mission
She leaves me all alone at night
Without a job description
There seem to be a hundred things
But I will let them slide
It's hard to have much energy
When you're keeping it all inside
The bells can ring, the presses stop
The locusts cling on next year's crop
The cupid king has spoke his peace
War goddess sing of his defeat
A curious man is missing
All his papers and his cards
To find out what she's holding
You must watch what she discards
The people want a comedy
The writer's in depression
And 'though his highness is alive
There's a question of succession
The siren wails, the cameras click
The hero fails to get the chick
I'm making nails for his casket
His holy grail has blown a gasket (is just a bucket)
