Six, six, sixth floor
We gotta acoounts,
we gotta IT,
we gotta Controller too
- not Atari though -
we gotta checks, lots of checks
to check and account for
and scan them too!
we gotta accounts, we gotta acounts
we got a check for bovine sperm
that's worth 20 times my current paycheck!
(your salary is worth 20 times less than a fucking bull's cum)
we gotta soy, we gotta carrots
lots of carrots, lots of soy,
that's worth 200000000000 times
your current paycheck!
we gotta acounts, we got accountants
we got computers, we got IT
we got a single horse check
that's worth 200 times your
current paycheck!
we gotta six, six, six women
on a single room
we gotta one, two , three, four
guys sitting on the controller's desk!
we gotta acoounts, we gotta accounts
we gotta millions, even billions of
trust fund checks
but we got no raise
no promotion
no future
no explanation
no jobs for the resident biologist!
we gotta acsounts, we gotta accounts,
we got you a lousy paycheck!
we gotta boss, we got two bosses,
we gotta lots of cash flowing
but not to you own account
we gotta accounts, we gotta accounts
on the six, six, sixth floor
and we gotta go, we need to go
from eight till five
we gotta go on minutes that lasts a decade!
but we can pay you no more
we can't pay you for being an IT professional
because you're a fucking biologist
registered as "office assistant"
on your paycheck, your lousy paycheck,
we gotta accounts, we gotta accountants,
lotsa accountants, that always miss them dates
and get regular threats and eternal promises
of groundshaking changes! career opportunities!
you just gotta wait until someone else dies
or got the chop - by their Owner, my Owner,
the Empire Builder, that's on fourth floor,
here we got six plus six plus six dozen accounts
and six, six, six enterprises, listed as one
accounted for a dozen, we gotta mess
hell yeah we gotta mess
we got IT on the shittiest network you'll see
constantly failingand crashing
and burning too
And we got a water fire extinguisher
right before the main servers, the main cables
"in case of fire, fucking die"
we gotta accounts, we gotta accounts,
we got a million dollar check, two million
dollar checks, three million worth of cattle
but we got no future
not for you
not for you
not for you
we gotta accountants? Check.
we gotta money, money, money? Check.
we gotta accounts more than anyone can ever count
or account for,
we gotta money that will last
for several generations
but not for you! no, not for you,
the resident dissident manic depressive disorder
we gotta accounts, we gotta accounts,
we gotta fucking noisy dot-matrix printer
screaming in my ears every day
every print, the same, accounts, accounts, accounts
they don't know about double monitors
they've gotta use this fucking piece of shit noisy printer
that I want to throw outta the fucking window
of the six, six, sixth floor,
accountants, accounts, IT and controller
no videogames though, no diversion
only fucking absurd numbers
of fucking absurd sums
that will never get arou to my own account
but to their accounts
we got PIS, COFINS, DARFs and whatnot
but we ain't got a future for you, no, sorry
nowhere here, nowhere anywhere round here
on the fucking six, six, sixth floor!
I should have been a fucking lawyer
or a fucking damned accountant
but here I am, the resident depressed biologist
no room for you on our careers, sorry!
We got checks that would last me for
a fucking llifetime of money
but they ain't for me - they're for fucking cattle
and soy, and carrots, and milk, and even timber
timber worth 30 times your own
fucking paycheck? Check.
Check-mate for me,
the resident manic depressive biologist fucker
who works at IT and does almost nothing worthy
at all, not worthy of salary increments or career changes!
We gotta accounts, we gotta accounts,
not for you, not for you
the printing of nearly 10 thousand pages a month
because to them, "double-monitors" are a fucking mystery
no, we gotta print, we gotta check on paper
what numbers are we supposed to get
print them all! on the dot-matrix, no less!
noisy hell of a printer
I wish I could throw away
set on fire, go berserk
We gotta accounts, we gotta accounts,
we gotta money, lotsa money
but almost none for you, "friend"
because we ain't got no jobs for biologists here!
so work as IT assistant, AKA fucking vase
chase after nothing, nothing will ever change
no motivation to chase after nothing, they don't get it
I don't get it, I don't wanna get it, no more work
for no more money at all, we gotta you this
fucking lousy paycheck, for your retarded ass
your will to die, everyday, when you hear the siren
of the dot-matrix printing going on and on and on
50, 60, 100 pages of this endless noise
doesn't count as a work hazard, no, you gotta strong ears
you gotta stay strong, type it all right,
or retype, forever and ever, whatever was wrong,
after checking on a nearly 200 tenants we have,
lotsa money, lotsa cash, indeed we has
but none for you, not even a penny more for you,
the resident biologist piece of shit, hoping for
a sudden death, or whatever comes next,
on the six, six, sixth floor!
we gotta accounts, we gotta checks
none for you, but the lousy one you'll get
by day 15, and then the rest, cutting taxes and whatnot
by the end of the month, nothing more, nothing more
We gotta check for fucking donations worth 20 times
your fucking paycheck!
We gotta accounts, we gotta IT, but I
I
Got
Nothing
At
All.
