Minimum Wage

Ends of sun, bending low

As above, so below

Your path is illuminated

“yes, sir; right away, sir”

You say with a benevolent slur

And move closer to a vow of silence

You have no voice

You have no choice

They call you Jack or Page

Working for the minimum wage

Harden your heart, aim to please

Memories are enemies

Bobby’s come back as an angel

Though I can’t fail, I don’t get smug

Lest I become placid or drugged

And wind up promoted

I have no voice

I have no choice

They call me Cass or Knave

Working for the minimum wage